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•V S9S979 

Granite ^tate ^aga^tne 

a <QuarterIp Publication 

[Copyrighted, 1907.] 

Vol. V JANUARY-MARCH, 1908 No. 


Terms:— Per Annum . , $1.50 

Single Copy 40 

To Authors. — The editor respectfully solicits contributions relating to state history, biography and legei 
from those who are in possession of any incidents or narrative of local or general interest. Any one not a regui 
writer, and not situated to put his notes into readable form, is requested to send the rough draft and we will und« 
take to put it into manuscript for the printer. Every article received will be carefully read and returned, if foui 

Address plainly : Editor Granite State Magazine, 


No. 64 Hanover Street, Manchester, N. H. 

Entered as second-class matter, December 21, 1905, at the post office at Manchester, New Hampshire, unc 

the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. 

Printed by The Ruemely Press, 143 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H, 


The Snow-Shoe Men. (Illustrated Poem) Nellie M. Browne 

The Snow-Shoe Scouts. (Illustrated) George Waldo Browne 

The Old Barn (Poem) Anonymous 

The Vermont Grants Orvando D. dough 

The Soap-Maker. (Illustrated Character Sketch) Benjamin T. Newman \ 

The Soap-Maker. (Description) Nestor of the Farms 

New Hampshire Men at Bunker Hill. (Illustrated) .John C.French 

The Old Country Road. (Poem) James Newton Matthews 

General Michael McClary John C. French 

The Return. (Poem) * John Burroughs 

The Norsemen in New Hampshire. (Five Illustrations) Arthur W. Dudley 

The Parson's Roll-Call. (Poem) George Waldo Browne 

Sutton's Forest Sachems Charles Eaton 

The Old New England Home. (Poem) John Howard, A/. D. 

Items of Interest 

The Ancient Races of America. (Illustrated) G. P. Thruston 

The Vanished Races. (Illustrated) A Staff Contributor 

The Indian Hunter. (Poem) Eliza Cook 

a $eto ©epariure 

Beginning with this number, the Granite State Magazine w 
be published quarterly instead of monthly, as heretofore. This is do 
to enable us to do justice to the work we have contemplated, and wh 
there will be fewer numbers to file away the suscribers will not have k 
anything in quantity, while the quality will be improved. There will 


less of fiction but more of history, description and articles of value 
reference. Each issue will have some special feature of importan 
Our next, to appear the first of June, will be a 


This will give a complete account of that memorable fight, with 1 
causes that led to it and the results; a sketch of Captain Lovewell s 
another of his father; two Lovewell and Tyng Journals; ballad 
"Lovewell fight"; an original poem, founded upon the legend "Prop 
tess of the Saco"; and a picturesque description of the "Last Counc 
of the Sokokis chieftains, just before the famous battle. 

Hiterarp ^otes 

Along the Labrador Coast. By Charles Wendell f ownsend, M. D. With il 
trations from photographs and a map. Cloth, Svo., 289 pages. Dana Estes & Co., Bos 
Price, $2. For sale in Manchester by Goodman. 

The author takes "us "on~ a delightful 
to this land of interest, so little known 
lying so near, It was along this coast si 
that the viking rovers sailed in the misty c 
of the tenth and eleventh centuries, fine 
much to interest them. But theirs was ma 
a love for adventure and booty, while tha 
the present writer treats us to pleasanter 
none the less interesting subjects. A love 
birds, he pictures in well-chosen words 
creatures of the feathered denizens of 
woods and shores. The floes and the iceb 
are described in graphic language, making 
one of the most valuable sections of 
work. The scenery, flowers and trees, 
fish and fishermen, the picturesque inhabits 
the Hudson Bay Company's posts, the M 
vian Missions, each coming in for its no 
The illustrations are especially good, b 

taken from original photographs by the author and his companion, Dr. Glover ^W 

Altogether it is a handsome and interesting volume. 

Money and Investments. By Montgomery Rollins. Cloth, 8vo., 436 pages. P 
$2.50. Dana Estes & Co., Publishers, Boston. For sale in Manchester by Goodman. 

As a reference book for the use of those desiring information in the handling of mc 
for investment, we have never met a book that is the equal of this, written by one who 
been educated in the school of finance and experienced in the art of investment. Fol 
ing a Foreword, occupying thirty-six pages of explanation, speculation, investment 
suggestion, is an encyclopedia of knowledge regarding the meaning of financial and 1 
ness terms, practically covering the field. For instance, we wish to know what "Dei 
rage" is, we turn to the title under its initial letter and find, "When any vehicle of tr 

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portation, such as a car or vessel, is detained beyond the time allowed, either for loading 
or unloading, a per diem charge, called 'demurrage,' is made." We can think of no subject 
which is not treated in a concise and plain manner. 

Kedar Kross. A Tale of the North Country. By J. Van Der Veer S hurts. Cloth, 
!2mo., 430 pages. B^ce, $150. Richard G. Badger, Publisher, Boston, Por sale in 
Manchester by Goodman. 

The story starts in at Ogdensburg, N. Y., but the scene is soon transferred to the Can- 
adian border, where we are introduced to the heroine, Flora Macdonald,in her long, perilous 
ride to carry the pardon that saved her lover. Then follow the first happy years of their mar- 
ried life, the abduction of their son, the loss of the mother in the search, loss of property 
through those supposed to be friends, a vivid description of the Battle of Gettysburg, and 
the grand tribute paid one who had proved a staunch friend through all his troubles, mak 
ing this one of the most readable books of the year. 

Over the Nuts and Wine. A Book of Toasts. By James Clarence Harvey. 
Bound in an original style, in the shape of a champagne bottle inclosed in a bucket. 
Veneer finish, bands, labels, etc., reproduced in exact duplicate. Boxed. Price, 75 cents. 
Full ooze leather, boxed, $2. 

The author of this strictly original and up-to-date Book of Toasts is so well and famil- 
iarly known, and has an almost national reputation as the first of our after-dinner enter- 
tainers, that this work will be hailed by many with a great deal of pleasure. Printed in two 
colors on antique buff paper. , ..... 

THEODOSIA, The First Gentlewoman of Her Time. By Charles Felton Pidgin, 
author of "Quincy Adams Sawyer," "The Burr Triology," "Little Burr," "The Climax."- 
etc. Cloth, i2mo.. 482 pages. Profusely illustrated and finely published; with round back. 
Price, $1.50. C. M. Clark Publishing Company, Boston. For sale in Manchester by 

-In many respects this work deserves an encouraging word. It shows a deep interest 
on the part of Mr. Pidgin in his task, and a wide and exhaustive treatment of the subject. 
The heroine is fully worthy of the faithful efforts of her biographer, for this cannot be far 
from a biography, while possessing all of the interest of fiction. No element is missing: 
love, mystery, tragedy, the trinity of romance are to be found here. If we may differ with 
the author, we are glad of his painstaking work, we are glad that that beautiful woman has 
had some one to speak of her in such kindly, sincere words. No student of American his- 
tory should fail to read, and to own, these works of Mr. Pidgin, pertaining to "The Little 
Warwick of America," not the least among them being this gentle life of his daughter. 

Again we come to pass in review an invoice of the offerings of poets and story-tellers 
who make their debut to the reading world through the kindly introduction of this knight 
errant of publishers, Mr. Richard G. Badger, Boston. We, who love tasty dress, even in 
books, and believe the contents look brighter and more attractive in type and binding, in 
paper and picture, are not disappointed in the books that fall like roses in their season 
from the Gorham Press. Taking these at random we find, all i2mos.: 

The Breath of the Morning. By Beverly Doran. Price, $1. The title of this 
poetical offering of a young poet is certainly interesting enough to be good. 

Songs of Many Days. By Florence Evelyn Pratt. This dainty volume contains 
between fifty and sixty poems that are delightful in sentiment and expression. 


Ropes of Sand. By Lura K. Clendening. Price, $1.50. This volume contains both 
prose and poetry, which deserve more than the title would suggest. 

Poems. By Helen Elizabeth Coolidge. Price, $1. Another fine gift-book, under a 
name that is not altogether unfamiliar. 

Thekla. A Drama. By Aileen C. Higgins. Price, $1. This is a more ambitious 
effort. We regret that we have not more space to devote to this sweet story of the days oi 
the Apostle Paul. 

The Illuminated Way and Other Poems. By Frances Coan Percy. Price, $1 
Three score or more of poems upon every -day subjects, and some that are not so common 
While none may rise to a great altitude, yet, what is better, none fall to the line oi 

Pocket Tokens. By Vernon Wade Wagar. Price, $1, A pleasant gift book. 

<©ur Cofcers 

Beginning with this number, we start a series of pictures of the 
Old Man of the Mountain that will be continued through the volume 
Original drawings by D. T. Knight, and reproduced here through the 
courtesy of Walter G. Chase, M. D., should make it a series of historic 

44 Golden Nuggets " 

A Choice Colle&ion of Prose and Poetry 

.- Small quarto; 84 pages; illustrated; price, 25 cents; sent postpaid 
\ Granite State Pub. Co., 64 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H. 

Photo-Engraving, Printing, 
Book Binding. 


Rumford Printing Co., Concord, N. H. 

Photo-Engravers for the Granite State Magazine. 

^^^^f^SzS&r ■,-...■-.,-■■■ \ -■■• ; - 

5 ? 




Cfje ^noto=^f)oe j^en 

By Nellie M. Browne 

Recited before the Manchester Historic Association upon its 
celebration of the two hundredth anniversary of the winter march 
of Captain Tyng and his snow-shoe scouts. 


■Y THE light of the early morning, 

When the woods were white with snow, 
Marched the snow-shoe men from Dunstable, 
Now two hundred years ago. 

With faces turned to the Northward, 

Leaving homes without a sigh, 
Ready to act for their loved ones — 

Ready ever to do and die,. 


They had left their hearthfires burning, 
And those they held most dear; 

But honor and valor went with them, 
Though the way was long and drear. 

Up the "River of Broken Waters," 
In silence wended their way, 

For their feet were clad with snow-shoes, 
And stout of heart were they. 

You have read how they met the enemy - 
The tedious march was done, 

Which gave to us our home-rights, 
Their well-earned victory won. 

Who shall say they were not heroes, 
Though the years have flown apace? 

Who can say they are not worthy 
In our hearts to hold a place? 

They have left with us their record— 
The fight and hardships shared — 

Let us keep alive their memory, 
Remember the men who dared. 

When at last life's chain is broken, 

Let this ever be our prayer; 
That their deeds shall be recorded, 

And their names be written there. 

<Cf)e ^noto^oe Scouts 

An Address Delivered by George Waldo Browne Before the 
Manchester Historic Association Upon the Two Hun- 
dredth Anniversary of the Winter' Scout of Capt. 
William Tyng and His Snow-Shoe Men.- 

Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen: 

C^JflT is my purpose this evening to speak of that little 
- band of men whose names have become enrolled on 
J ^ the historic pages of early New England as "The 
Snow-Shoe Scouts;" the men who were foremost among 
the pioneers in breaking the New Hampshire wilderness; 
the men whose log cabins were the homes of the first 
actual settlers within the populous section of our city; the 
men whose clearings were the windows in the primeval 
forest to first let in the sunlight of these northern skies 
upon this paradise of the red men; the men whose rough- 
walled meeting house reared on one of the pine-templed 
hills near by, was the first to declare to the coming gene- 
rations that their ancestors were a God-fearing people. 

Sitting here in the enjoyment of the pleasures and 
privileges of a civilized life; coming from the homes of a 
Christian community, and protected by the laws of a free 
government, it is not easy to comprehend that within the 
span of two lives — a Stark and a Kidder — this scene was 
the heart of an unpeopled wildwood; where the lofty pine 
lifted .high its sombre plume in defiance of the woodman's 
axe; where the sedgy vine bound in its relentless folds the 
oaken freeman of the forest; where the Merrimack ran its 
race unvexed from mountain to the sea; where by day the 
hungry bear crept forth from its lonely lair, and by 
night the stealthy panther prowled upon the footsteps of 
its prey; where, from sun to sun, the timid deer followed 



its flight unfearing the shadow of a human being; ay, when 
and where the solemn drum-beats of Old Amoskeag, which 
had not lost a note for cycles of forgotten years, was un- 
broken and unchallenged by the rumble of factory wheels 
or the thunder of street traffic; the silence of the solitude 
broken only by the myriad voices of Nature — the murmur 
of running waters, the soughing of the wind, the trill of 
the forest songster, the plaint of a belated fox, the laugh- 
ter of the loon — blending in harmonious concert, the softer 
notes drowned at intervals by the harsh tremolo of some 
wandering wolf. 

If two hundred years ago only an occasional red man, 
like a shadow of departed greatness, lingered around these 
old familiar scenes, the Merrimack valley had been in truth 
the great battle ground of the aboriginal races. Here, the 
natural heir of Nature's realm, the lordly Penacook had 
threaded the dim aisles of its wild arcades, his snowy canoe 
had vied with the foam upon its broken waters, his warcry 
had awakened the fastness of its far-reaching forests, his 
council fires starred the Plutonian night of the barbaric 
wilderness long ere the white sails of Columbus' caravels 
had dotted the distant main; long ere the ravens of the 
Northmen had flaunted their dark wings on the sedgy 
shores of Old Vineland; ay, long ere the most learned cos- 
mographer of the Old World had dreamed of a land and a 
people beyond the untraversed seas. Here, was sounded 
up and down the country, from the mysterious West, the 
wild alarm of battle from their ancient and deadly 
enemies, the Romans of America, the Mohawks. Here, 
from the Brave Lands of the Penacook to the murmuring 
waters of Pawtucket, from the pulseless breasts of Uncan- 
noonuc to the crag-castles of Old Pawtuckaway the invin- 
cible Abnakis bore aloft the tocsin of war. Here wound 
the wartrails of nations that fought, bled and perished in 
the same cause which has wrung tears from the old earth 
since it was young. This was in truth the Thessaly of 
Olden New England. 


From out of the misty background of Tradition rise 
the stalwart figures of that heroic period. Among them 
the stately Kenewa appears mustering his dusky legion, 
to lead it forth to anticipated conquest only to be swallowed 
up by the hungry wilderness as was Varus and his army in 
the old Germanic forest. Then the valiant Winnemet 
rallied around him upon the Brave Lands his gallant fol- 
lowers in his desperate endeavor to stem the tide of that 
disastrous Waterloo, falling encircled by the last of 
"old guard" of the Penacooks. Now the magnanimous 
Passaconnaway, reading in the signs of the times, the 
destiny in store for his people, taught them it was better to 
condone the wrongs done by a stronger race than to com- 
bat a hopeless fate, leaving them with his parting words 
impressed upon their minds, while he launched his frail 
boat upon the placid waters of Massabesic, to the red men 
"the eyes of the sky," to vanish from sight and story. 
What a picturesque sight was presented by the tall, erect 
figure of the aged sachem standing upright in the centre 
of his fragile craft, while it was slowly wafted by the rip- 
pling water away from the pine-fronded shore, away from 
the landscape which swiftly disappeared before the incom- 
ing of white man, but whose going out was even slower 
than the disappearance of the race of which this single 
chieftain was a noble representative. Here, the curtain 
fallen on the closing scene of pagan warfare, Wannalancet, 
the last great sachem of the Penacooks, called about him 
his few scattered followers to lead them to that rendezvous 
under French protection upon the St. Francis, to return 
himself a few years latter that his ashes might mingle with 
the dust of his fathers. Here, sacrificing every hope and 
ambition for his people, brave Merruwacomet, better 
known as Joe English, fought and fell in the interest of an 
alien people, an unhonored hero. Here, too, in the gloam- 
ing of that long day, came the lonely Christo to consecrate 
with the tears of a warrior the graves of his sires, the ashes 
of his race. No mean knights of chivalry these, every 


hero of them worthy to stand shoulder to shoulder with the 
best of the Old World champions. 

Of their rights or wrongs I have little to say at this 
time, but am free to confess that I have no patience with 
those who declare they were hopeless savages, beyond the 
light of civilization. I would remind that same judge that 
it was not so very many generations ago that his own an- 
cestors lurked sullenly in caverns of the earth and came 
forth clad in the skins of wild beasts. It is related by one 
of the pioneers that while abroad one night upon the river- 
bank, he discovered an Indian approaching upon his hands 
and knees. A friendly motion of the hand of the dusky 
scout caused the white man to wait his approach. Then, 
with his fingers upon his lips to enjoin silence, he whis- 

"Me watch to see the deer kneel." 

Then it occurred to the white man that it was 
Christmas, and he realized that in the simplicity of his be- 
lief the red man was expecting at that sacred hour to see 
the deer come forth from the forest to fall upon their 
knees in silent adoration to the Great Spirit. Truly that 
race cannot be lost to Omnipotent justice who, in its 
honesty of faith, looks through Nature's eyes up to God. 

The condition between the red man and his white 
competitor reminds me of the story of the "talking turkey." 
A white man and an Indian, hunting together, had agreed 
to divide equally the spoils of their hunt, which resulted 
simply in getting a good fat turkey and a worthless crow. 
In this dilemma the white man proposed that they divide 
even, by saying: 

"I'll take the turkey, and you can take- the crow; or 
you can take the crow and I will take the turkey." 

"Ugh!" exclaimed the red man, "you no talk turkey 

to poor Indian at all." 

* * 

The Treaty of Ryswick, September 20, 1697, closed 
Frontenac's long series of aggressive campaigns on the 


part of New France against New England, and a period of 
comparative peace between the settlers of these provinces 
succeeded. The pride and the power of the Five Nations, 
always arrayed against the French since the days of 
Champlain, had been broken and humbled; their numerous 
acres of maize destroyed with ruthless hands; their great 
apple orchards ruined; their large tracts of ripening melons 
destroyed; and their towns ravaged and given over to the 
torch of the despoiler. The Abnakis, the constant allies 
of the French, were for the time gluttered of their ven- 
geance and their appetite for blood sated. 

But the respite was not overlong. Soon the war -torch 
was rekindled and the war-whoops of the Eastern 
Amerinds again awoke the solitude of northern New Eng- 
land. This was the coming of the twilight to the darkest 
night in the history of New England warfare. England 
and France were again drawn into an armed contest in 
that century and more of conflict which marks that era of 
European history. This time Spain was a part of the 
strife, largely the bone of contention, and European 
historians have styled this "The War of the Spanish Suc- 
cession." In America it was called "Queen Anne's War," 
as that queen was the ruler of Great Britian, and, as usual, 
the trouble in the old world was largely fought out in the 
new, and its terrible warfare lasted for nearly ten years. 

Hitherto the red men had carried on their predatory 
struggles mainly through their own arms and leadership. 
Now they were not only armed but trained and advised by 
the masters of French military tactics and unceasingly to 
strike their subtle yet terrific blows. Thus all the cruel 
cunning of the wild savage was united with the merciless 
ingenuity of the then foremost military power in the 
world. Urged on by this crafty ally, keeping constantly 
before their eyes the well-thumbed prayer-book while he 
held over their heads the sword, the Amerinds, in scouting 
parties numbering from half a dozen to a score or more, 
raided every section of the wide belt of wilderness lying 


between the more thickly settled quarters of the English 
on the south and the French fortresses on the north. The 
pioneers of Maine and New Hampshire were consequently 
the greatest sufferers. According to the best information 
we have, and which is all too meagre, more than two 
hundred men, women and children were killed or taken 
into a captivity worse to contemplate than even death at 
the hands of a barbaric foe. The torch was applied to 
cabin after cabin, until it began to look as if the English 
settlers were doomed. By the swiftness and frequency of 
their attacks upon the scattered homes of the pioneers it 
seemed as if the dusky enemies were omnipresent hanging 
"like lightning upon the edge of a cloud," about those 
lonely cabins fringing the wilderness. 

In their hapless plight the people turned to the gov- 
ernment for assistance. The French were paying a bounty 
for scalps of the English, and the courts of Massachusetts, 
in order to encourage the pioneers of their domains, offered 
a bounty of fifty pounds for every Indian scalp that should 
be secured. This encouragement, in addition to the 
natural desire to retaliate for the inhuman deeds com- 
mitted against them, caused the whites to speedily organize 
several scouting parties along the lower Merrimack valley 
for the purpose of driving back the enemy and striking a 
blow in self-defence. About twenty of these parties were 
organized, to see more or less of service, but the first and 
most conspicuous of these was that gallant band of whom 
I am to speak, "Tyng's Snow-Shoe Scouts." 

The depredations of the Amerinds were mostly made 
in the summer. It was not only easier for them to move 
about like so many shadows under the forest shade, but 
the white settlers were then occupied with their various 
duties about their new homes, and less prepared to combat 
them. Upon the other hand, the English made nearly all 
of their retaliatory expeditions against their wily foes dur- 
ing the winter season. If the forests were snow-clogged 
then, the undergrowth was overladen with its heavy man- 


tic, the streams and ponds bridged with silver planking, 
and the red men now aggregated in groups more readily 
found than in the summer when they were scattered. The 
whites, too, had more leisure in which to pursue this stub- 
born warfare. 

The situation of the entire colonists in America at 
that perilous period was exceedingly critical. The English 
held only a chain of settlements along the New England 
coast, here and there fringing the banks of its 
many rivers; the Dutch, a cluster of hamlets in New 
Netherlands, now New York; and the English another 
colony at Jamestown, Virginia. The French meanwhile 
had obtained possession, in a large sense speculative, the 
entire interior stretching from Acadie on the east, up the 
valley of the St. Lawrence past Tadousac, the trading 
station at the mouth of the Saguenay, Quebec, upon its 
rock-throne, Montreal, on the site of ancient Huron capi- 
tal, the rich country about the Great Lakes, and the fer- 
tile basins running down to the Gulf of Mexico. This 
crescent-shaped line of settlements, bounded on the north 
by the unexplored wilderness, was maintained by a chain 
of fortresses, guarded by a paid soldiery, encouraged by 
the prayers of zealous missionaries, and supported by rich 
traders who desired to become yet richer. In all this vast 
area there were only two homes within sight and sound of 
the rock of Quebec. 

The English held their limited domain by actual home- 
building, clearing the wilderness and cultivating the soil 
wherever they dared to venture, and the natural resources 
allured them hence. They stubbornly defended their 
homes to their utmost. The first was a military power; 
the latter a civil body. 

It can be readily understood that the Indians, situated 
in the broad belt of debatable country between these rival 
powers almost constantly at each other's throat, were like 
grains of corn between two mill wheels, sure to be crushed 
by one or the other. None realized this better than they 


in their ignorance and weakness, and this very fact served 
to make them suspicious and revengeful. It was impossi- 
ble for them to remain neutral, and it was natural they 
should be won over to the French through their zeal- 
ous priests and dazzling glamor of their armed forces. To 
the simple warrior of the wilderness the soldiers of New 
France were dashing, courageous gallants, the flashing of 
whose rapiers was the lightning and the roar of whose fire- 
arms was the thunder of battle. When they saw these 
gaily-bedecked sons of mars, whom they knew were their 
superiors, lie down beside them in the wallow, and adopt 
with apparent cheerfulness their methods of living, they 
were easily induced to become their allies. In the words 
of Charlevoix: "The savages did not become Frenchmen; 
the Frenchmen became savages." But with all their 
shrewdness the French did not adopt the red man's tactics 
of warfare. 

On the other hand, while the English scorned affilia- 
tion with the Indians they did not hesitate to imitate them 
in their system of border strife. In this respect they 
gained a decided advantage over the French from the days 
of Captain Tyng and his "Snow-shoe Scouts" to the close 
of the cruel drama under Rogers and his Rangers. Com- 
pared with the cunning artifices and hand-to-hand encount- 
ers of the veterans of those war-trails the personal prowess 
and valor of the mailed warriors of the age of chivalry in 
European struggles become common-place combats. It is 
true the pomp of bannered columns, the eclat of heraldry, 
the shimmer of burnished armor were wanting, but in their 
places were the stern, determined countenances of sun- 
bronzed and weather-beaten men; instead of the thunder of 
hoofs was the stillness of foot-soldiers shod with silence; 
instead of the clangor of clumsy arms rang the sharp twang 
of the bow, and the track of the hurtling dart was sped by 
the feathered arrow. 

Where, in the one case, was a Saviour's grave to 
rescue from the infidels, on the other were human lives — 


mothers, daughters, sons and sweethearts, over whose 
fates hung a mystery and horror that passed the compre- * 
hension of man. Everywhere the frontier had been 
ravaged by an enemy that neither compassed the range of 
suffering or knew the redeeming grace of compassion. 
Not alone were young men fired with the zeal of defence 
and rescue in those unwritten crusades, but old men be- 
came knight-errants on those long, tedious, perilous 
marches through the wilderness of debatable country lying 
between the blockhouses of the English and the strong- 
holds of the French — a pathless belt of forest three 
hundred miles in width. These ardous marches had to be 
performed in the dead of winter, not upon the backs of 
eager warhorses, but upon foot, the shadowy soldiery 
threading in silence lonely ravines, scaling broken foot- 
hills, creeping under matted thickets reeking with the 
sweat of centuries, when the wilderness was snow-clogged, 
and the water-ways locked with the key of Nature. Re- 
sorting to the use of snow-shoes, the intrepid scouts wound 
their weary way over huge snow-banks, at times wading 
knee-deep in some turgid stream whose silvery covering 
had proved too thin to bear their weight, anon dragging 
their loads over the icy surface of an inland sheet of 
water; at nightfall stopping to dig a hole in the snow for 
the site of their camping-place, fearing to build a fire to 
thaw their benumbed limbs lest some argus-eyed enemy, 
who was to be expected at all times lurking in ambush, 
should spring upon them; appeasing their hunger with bits 
of dried meat, lying down on a layer of fir-boughs for their 
couch, a bedraggled blanket or frozen skin for a covering, 
— even in sleep the mittened hand holding upon the stock 
of the trusty firearm, and the trained ear alert to catch the 
first intimation of danger. Wet, tired, stiffened by the 
day's march, after a night's unrest, making a breakfast 
without a fire, these show-shoe scouts were up and moving 
again though the winter wind cut like a two-edged sword, 
and the sleet pelted like shotted lead. And ever the un- 



certainty of their quest, should they succeed in reaching 
the end of their pathless trail, only an inkling of whose 
sufferings can be conveyed by the tongue. 

It is said that it was a woman's forethought which 
suggested the snow-shoes, but be that as it may the idea 
found instant favor, and no sooner had Capt. William 
Tyng petitioned to the Massachusetts General Court for 
the privilege of organizing a band of scouts than busy 
hands began to get in readiness these useful objects. 
Within a week forty-four had signified their willingness — 
a y» eagerness — to accompany Captain Tyng upon his 
arduous expedition. Their names and residences are as 


John Shepley 
Peter Talbird 
Josiah Richardson 
Saml. Chamberlain 
Ebner. Spaulding 
Henry Farwell 
John Spaulding 
Jona. Butterfield 
Stephen Keyes 
Timothy Spaulding 

Nathaniel Woods 
William Longley 
Jonathan Page 
Joseph Parker 
Nathl. Blood 
Thos. Tarble. 
Richard Warner 
Saml. Davis 
Joseph Guilson 

John Spaulding, Jr. 
Benony Perham 
John Richardson 
Paul Fletcher 
Nathaniel Butterfield 
Stephen Pierce 
Henry Spaulding 
Jonathan Parker 
Ephraim Hildreth 


Joseph Perham 
Joseph Lakin 
James Blanchard 
William Whitney 
Eleazer Parker 
Saml. Woods 
John Longley 
John Holden 

the snow-shoe scouts 15 

Thomas Lund Joseph Blanchard 

Joseph Butterfield John Cumings 

Thomas Cumings 

John Hunt Jonathan Hill 

Jonathan Richards 

Capt. William Tyng, the organizer and leader of this 
expedition, was the second son of Col. Jonathan and Sarah 
(Usher) Tyng, born April 22, 1679. His grandfather was 
the Hon. Edward Tyng, born in Dunstable, England, in 
1600 His father, Edward, was one of the original proprie- 
tors of Dunstable, and with his family remained in town 
during the period of King Philip's War when all others fled 
to a haven of safety. William, as far as the records show, 
was the first white child born in the town, and he became 
a prominent citizen, holding the office of selectman at the 
time of organization of his famous band of scouts. In 
1707 he was representative to the General Court, and was 
made major of the armed forces of that vicinity in 1709. 
The following summer, while engaged in active service, he 
was mortally wounded by the Indians, and died a few days 
later while being treated for his wound at Concord. He 
led other scouting parties than the one under considera- 
tion, and his younger brother, Col. Eleazer, was the leader 
of a relief party sent to succor the ill-fated Lovewell. 
Major William Tyng's son, John, was an honored and in- 
fluential citizen, who when the old township was divided 
became a resident of Tyngsborough. He was judge and 
leading factor in in the Tyng grant to be mentioned later. 

While the recording hand is silent in this matter, * 

♦The original pay-roll of Captain Tyng is not preserved, but the 
record of the money paid to him is to be found in the Massachusetts 
Council Records, Vol. IV, page 20. It amounts to 71 pounds, 11 shillings 
which sum includes 25 shillings paid to a surgeon for caring for one of the 
men who came home sick. — Editor. 



I have every reason to believe that Capt. Tyng had no less 
noted person for his guide upon this expedition than Joe 
English, the friendly Agawam, whose early name had been 
Merruwacomet, meaning the "first to reach the meeting- 

These early scouting parties were usually le d by 
friendly Indians, and as late as 1724 Harmon, in his re- 
vengeful raid against the French priest Rasle and his dusky 
followers at Nprridgewock, was guided by the friendly Mo- 
hawk, Christian, andthis same Indian a year later died while 
engaged in a similar service under Col. Eleazer Tyng. 
Joe English met a tragic death at the hands of his country- 
men in this vicinity July 26, iyo6.f 

*Since writing the above I have found the following Declarations 
made in connection with the settlement of the boundary dispute between 
Massachusetts and New Hampshire, recorded in the Masonian Papers, 
Vol. 4, saying explicitly that Joe English acted as guide for Capt. William 
Tyng upon his expedition against the Indians during the winter of 1703-4, 
to wit: 

John Cummings of Westford says that "he proceeded against the 
Indians with Captain William Tyng, and an Indian named Joe English, 
then a noted Pilot." John Langley of Groton ; reiterates this statement and 
declares "that in the Year 1703, he went up said River (Merrimack) with 
Capt. William Tyng with a noted Indian Pilot with them, named Joe 
English." Another, Isaac Bradley of Haverhill, Mass., repeats this 
declaration with the added information that Joe English lived at that time 
at "Penicook with other of ye Penicook Indians." It is quite likely that 
Captain Tyng was joined here by the "noted Indian pilot," and that he 
parted with him here upon his return. This would indicate that the 
Indians were living at Pennacook later than most historians claim. — 

t Joe English was a grandson of Masconnomet, chief sagamore of the 
Agawam family of Amerinds living within the territory now comprised in 
Ipswich, Mass. He inherited considerable land from his grandparent, 
which he conveyed to the whites and his wife by various deeds to be found 
recorded in the Massachusetts Military Records. Many are the stories re- 
lated of his bravery and fidelity to the whites. His death was generally 
lamented, and the Massachusetts General Assembly made a grant of land 
and allowed the widow and her two children a pension, "because he had 
died in the service of his country." — Editor. 



Captain Tyng had his men in readiness for marching, 
and on the morning of December 28, 1703, his party moved 
up the Merrimack valley, leading the way through the 
pathless forest for the many expeditions of the kind that 
were to follow during the sanguinary years of the French 
and Indian wars. Over this same route Woodward, Gard- 
ner and their companions had been the first white men to 
penetrate when upon their original survey of the Merri- 
mack made by order of the Massachusetts court in 1638. 
Over this same course was Captain Tyng to pass again 
upon another march of this adventurous sort, and along 
his path Capt. John White. By this way, too, went the 
brave Lovewell in his memorable trips, the last of which 
cost him and his men so dear. Here, also, followed Col. 
Eleazer Tyng, and others, in their efforts to succor the 
unfortunate hero of border warfare. 

The Sokokis, located upon the intervales of the Saco 
at Picwackett, as in later years, were the greatest source 
of annoyance to the whites, and among them a certain 
chief known to his followers as Raven Plume, on account 
of the black feather he wore in his head-dress, at the head 
of a small band of dusky slayers had become particularly 
obnoxious to the English. They had designated this 
leader of their enemies as "The Old Harry," which seemed 
the blackest color they could apply to him, and no doubt 
Captain Tyng had this dreaded foe in mind when he 
organized his snow-scouts. Thus Captain Tyng moved 
in that direction, always with extreme caution, sending out 
scouts by day to look for signs of the enemy and never 
sleeping at night without a watchful guard. 

Captain Tyng was a God-fearing man, in those days 
when fear of Divine wrath meant more than an idle threat. 
He and his hardy men belonged to that religious body 
known as Dissenters, who had come to this country for 
one reason to enjoy freedom of worship. That freedom, 
however, was of a very austere sort. The Sabbath was 
strictly observed, and who disobeyed its precepts was sure 


to call upon his head righteous condemnation and punish- 
ment. Each succeeding Sunday these snow-shoe scouts 
rested, the leader, with well-worn bible in hand holding 
appropriate ceremony, offering a sermon and prayer. The 
depth of feeling and earnestness of purpose of that little 
band of worshippers as they knelt upon the carpet of snow 
under the canopied church of the wilderness may be 
imagined but cannot be adequately described. No walls 
of masonry circumscribed the range of the preacher's voice 
which rose upon the wintry air with unbroken eloquence 
to the white throne of God. The melody of church bells 
was rendered in matchless beauty by the swelling anthems 
of the forest songs brought out by the wild winds, as they 
shook the roof of giant pines forming the great natural 
cathedral where the Genius of Solitude was the master 

Something of the rigidity with which these services 
were held and the manner in which the Sabbath was 
observed may be understood from the fact that one of the 
men, John Richardson, was fined by Captain Tyng forty 
shillings for ''wetting a piece of an old hat to put into his 
shoe," which chafed his foot upon the march. 

Toward nightfall upon the twentieth day the imprint 
of a moccasined foot was discovered by Joe English, and a 
halt was quickly ordered. The track had been made with- 
in half an hour, and it was believed some of the enemies 
were encamped near by. At any rate it stood them in 
hand to move with greater caution then ever. They were 
now in the heart of the country about the lodgment of 
the Sokokis. The guide, accompanied by one other, 
'reconnoitred the scene, and they were not gone fifteen 
minutes before they returned with the announcement that 
Old Harry, with four of his followers, were bivouaced in 
the valley below. It was quite certain, Joe P^nglish de- 
clared, that the Sokokis intended to stop there until morn- 
ing, and he counseled a pause where they were until it 
should be deemed wise to advance upon the enemy. 


With impatience and anxiety the band remained in- 
active waiting the word of their leader to move. If the 
wintry cold pierced their bodies they dared not relieve 
themselves of the suffering by building a fire. The most 
that could be done was to move silently to and fro in a cir- 
cumscribed space and defy the cold, the mittened hand 
always clutching the iron throat of the trusty firearm 
ready for use at the first alarm. Joe was gone longer 
upon his second scout than at first, and when he returned, 
it was simply to say that the foes had rolled themselves in 
their blankets, but were not yet in that sound sleep which 
he wished. So another hour passed on leaden wings, when 
the friendly chief made his third and last survey, coming 
back with the welcome tidings that the time for action had 

Captain Tyng and Joe English had already decided to 
advance in two lines or files, their courses so shaped as to 
approach the sleeping red men from right angles. At the 
proper moment Joe was to give a sharp cry in the Indian 
tongue. This was expected to arouse the unsuspecting 
sleepers, who would naturally leap to their feet in alarm. 
Then, before they could discover the real cause of this 
signal, the whites were to pour a deadly broadside upon 

Captain Tyng led the file upon the right, while his 
dusky ally, Merruwacomet, guided the other line. The 
snow-shoes effectually muffled every sound of the double 
line of march, and the scouts were too well trained in 
border warfare to betray their movements by any careless 
step. A deep silence rested upon the whited night. If 
the wind shook the arms of the fir upon the distant moun- 
tainside it did not so much as lift a finger of the sensitive 
birch in the lowlands. Only the snapping of an occasional 
twig bitten by the frost broke the ominous stillness. 

So well and accurately did these files of scouts move 
that no sooner had one reached an advantageous position 
than the other was in readiness for the opening fire. 


With a tinge of triumph in his voice, remembering the 
many wrongs inflicted upon him by his race, Joe English 
gave the war-signal, which must have rung up and down 
the valley with startling intonations, and taken up by the 
mountains sent back as a challenge between the races. 

With what terror the red men leaped to their feet may 
be imagined, but they fell even swifter before the deadly 
fire of their white avengers, Old Harry the first to rise and 
the first to fall. Viewed in the light of to-day it was a cold- 
blooded deed, but it was only the awful echo of the War- 
whoops that had given the death-knell of two hundred in- 
nocent lives; the volley of musketry, the extinguishing 
flame of hundreds of torches swung over peaceful homes. 
Old Harry had been a merciless foe; he died as a true war- 
rior of his race would have met his fate. 

The slaying accomplished with a rapidity and ease 
almost regretted by them, the victors looked to the secur- 
ing of the trophies of their expedition. It is said, though 
I cannot vouch for its truthfulness, that Joe English de- 
clined to take part in this work. It is possible he remem- 
bered them as his kinsmen. Still he knew so deadly was 
the hatred of the others that they would have shot him 
down with fiendish delight. In fact, a little over two years 
later he was surprised and killed as a wild beast would 
have been destroyed. 

The object of their mission obtained, with the gory 
proofs of their victory, the scouts in the morning started 
upon their return. The journey home was uneventful. 
They reached Dunstable upon January 25, 1 703-4, having 
been gone three days less than a month. The story of 
their expedition must have been 'listened to by eager 
listeners, and curious ones looked with feelings akin to 
awe upon the ghastly products of that wintry scout. The 
court paid Captain Tyng and his men the expected 
bounty, which amounted to two hundred pounds in the 
currency of the times. 

While this expedition and others that followed that 


winter in a measure checked the depredations of the 
Indians it did not end them, for within three years we find 
that the enemy dared to penetrate even to the homes of 
the settlers in this vicinity, and life after life was sacrificed 
to the gluttony of their vengeance. The desperate strug- 
gle between the races lasted until 171 3, or for more than ten 
years. Scarcely had a decade of peace passed before there 
followed those stirring scenes culminating in Lovewell's 
deadly fight on that memorable May morning, 1725. 

In conclusion, let it not be forgotten that whatever 
we have accomplished, whatever has been done in building 
up a civilization here in our rugged state, the foundation 
was laid by the men and women who dared and conquered 
the Genius of the Wilderness; the men and women who 
followed the Indian trails into the primeval forest, where 
now our streets and highways band the country, dotted 
with farmhouses or lined with city homes. 

Little did it matter if they came, as some of them did, 
with an accumulation of wealth which in home lands would 
have supported them in comfort, they met difficulties 
heretofore undreamed of, dangers no money could avert, 
hardships and privations the foresight of man, under those 
circumstances, could not spare them. But the majority 
did not come thus amply laden; they were the rank and 
file of the British yeomanry, who made no murmur against 
the fate they had followed, but bent to the undertaking 
they had imposed upon themselves with a faith in their 
God matched only by that unswerving confidence in them- 
selves that they were equal to the work. Perhaps the first 
class suffered the more, for the reason they had a brighter 
past, and may have found it harder to submit to the in- 

This generation ne'er can know 
The toils they had to undergo, 
While laying the great forests low. 

— Alex McLachlan, Canadian poet. 


In those days every man was a hero, every woman a 
heroine, who together overcame wild nature, cleared their 
forest fields, builded their humble dwellings, erected their 
mills, constructed their churches and school-houses, where 
a few years before the nearest approach to civilization was 
the conical wigwam of the red man, and the howl of the 
marauding wolf the voice of Solitude to her God. 

Qfyt <®lb 2$arn 

Rickety, old and crazy, 

Shingleless, lacking some doors — 
Bad in the upper story, 

Wanting in boards in the floors; 
Beams strung thick with cobwebs, 

Ridgepole yellow and gray, 
Hanging in utter impotence, 

Over the mounds of hay. 

How the winds turn around it! — 

Winds of a stormy day — 
Scattering the fragrant hay-seeds, 

Whisking the straws away — 
Streaming in at the crevices, ' 

Spreading the clover smell, 
Changing the dark old granary 

Into a flowery dell! 

how I loved the shadows 
That clung to the silent roof — 

Day-dreams wove with the quiet 
Many a glittering woof, 

1 climbed to the highest rafter, 

Watched the swallows at play, 
Admired the knots in the boarding, 
And rolled in billows of hay! 

Qlfyt Vermont Grants 

New Hampshire's Interest in Them 
By Ovando D. Clough 

Part I 

£*? NTERESTING and often dramatic as is the political 
^■i and civic history of almost every foot of New Eng- 
land's soil, it is safe to assert that there has never 
been played a political life drama here in which there was 
more of intrigue and chicanery at one time, heroism and 
loyalty to honor, home and country at another, than was 
enacted for about twenty years upon "The New Hamp- 
shire Grants," now the state of Vermont. 

The reader, in the following story, will be told of some 
of the leading actors and all of the principal acts known to 
have been played in the political drama that lasted for 
twenty years without drop of the curtain. 

In no wise will it be a history of the grants of Ver- 
mont, even for those years, but a relation of the purely 
political acts that directly, and sometimes indirectly, 
entered into the making of the state, with enough of gen- 
eral conditions to give a fair understanding of the motives 
and. effects of the political moves. 

In the early part of the year 1761, after the English, 
French and Indian wars had ended, a new and more hope- 
ful preparation began for pushing settlements still farther 
into the regions of Northern New England. 

Charlestown, then known as No. 4, situated on the 
east bank of the Connecticut River, Salisbury, on the 
Merrimack, and Bennington, west of the Green Mountains, 
were then but English outposts. All north of them was 
one unsettled wilderness. Benning Wentworth was then 



Royal Governor of New Hampshire, and he began to issue 
grants on a larger scale. He proposed to have three tiers 
of towns along both sides of the Connecticut River, and 
had the land surveyed; first, from Charlestown to the lower 
Coos, now Haverhill, N. H., and Newbury, Vt.; and then 
along up the fifteen-mile falls, to Northumberland, laying 
out towns six miles square. 

At the close of 1763, one hundred and thirty-eight 
towns had been granted in the Connecticut Valley, to 
Northumberland on the east side of the river, and Maid- 
stone on the west, and to within twenty miles of the Hud- 
son River. 

Wentworth's charters and conditions for granted 
towns were all alike. Towns were divided into sixty-eight 
shares. One share was given the first settled minister, one 
for a glebe for the Church of England, one for foreign 
missions and one for schools, and two, or five hundred 
acres, to Benning Wentworth. When a town had fifty 
families it was entitled to hold a weekly market and a half- 
monthly fair. All pines fit for masts were held for the 
"King's Navy." After ten years, one shilling on each one 
hundred acres was to be paid as proclamation money. 

In the year of 1763 the state of New York resumed a 
former controversy, claiming jurisdiction to all territory as 
far as the Connecticut River. Governor Wentworth denied 
the validity of the Duke of York's grants, under which 
New York claimed, and justified his own, so far as the 
western lines of Massachusetts and Connecticut, and told 
all his grantees to "hold on." New York then appealed to 
the King, and the- King, July 20, 1764, decided that New 
York held to the west bank of the Connecticut River. 

At first Wentworth's grantees accepted the King's 
decision as satisfactory, but later it was not so and troubles 
began. New York then declared all grants on the west 
side of the river illegal, and ordered them surrendered and 
new ones taken from New York. And then and there 
began "The War of the Grants." The west side settlers 




were much distressed at this, as a new grant involved a 
new expense they could ill afford to bear. Some protested. 
Others refused. Ejectment actions from New York began, 
and on a trial always were decided for New York. Then 
the settlers determined to combine and resist, and there- 
after, even to this day, have been known in history and in 
fiction as "The Green Mountain Boys," than whom history 
or fiction has never told of a braver or more loyal people. 
They resisted New York's and Massachusetts' claims of 
territory on the one hand, and baffled the schemes and 
intrigues of New Hampshire's educated politicians on the 
other. And they, too, in 1767, appealed to the king, and 
the king ordered a stay in the controversies. But New 
York still oppressed, the settlers still resisted; and Went- 
worth still issued grants, but only on the east side of the 
river, and such were the conditions when the war of the 
"Revolution" began. 

In 1766 Benning Wentworth, having pleased neither 
the king nor the settlers, was allowed to resign, and John 
Wentworth, a nephew, and an abler and better man, suc- 
ceeded him, the last of the Royal Governors of New 
Hampshire. He, too, continued the issuing of grants, but 
not so much in his own interests. 

One of his first acts, that at the first was a nest egg of 
schemes and discords, and at the last a credit to him and a 
glory to the state, was to persuade and to aid Rev. Eleazer 
Wheelock, then conducting an Indian school in Connecti- 
cut, to come to the Northern Country and establish a col- 
lege, soliciting also the aid of the "Earl of Dartmouth," 
for whom the college was named. The land, however, was 
a gift of Benning Wentworth, and was one of his reserved 
five hundred acres. 

After Benning's death, in 1771, all the reserved acres 
in his grants were held to belong to the towns, and were 
sold to the settlers. 

The first settlers of the Coneecticut upper valley, and 
those west of the Green Mountains, were mostly from the 


colonies of Connecticut, Massachusetts and Rhode Island, 
and so were strongly imbued with their spirit of local self- 
government, and strongly averse to the more centralized 
systems of New York and New Hampshire. Being in the 
wilderness and away from the influence of these, they set up 
their own towns even more democratic than their loved pro- 
totypes, which made each town, in fact, a little real republic 
democracy. But the Green Mountains divided the grants 
into two really distinct localities, and much to the incon- 
venience of easy intercourse of the settlers. 

Besides geographical differences, political differences 
so obtained at the time of the Revolution as to bring forth 
many different schemes of . state-making which ended 
mostly in two historically known parties, each aiming to 
make a state, but by different methods, for different ends; 
and with different boundaries. These were, firstj the Ben- 
nington party, a personification of the "Green Mountain 
Boys," the heroes of the "War of the Grants," with head- 
quarters at Bennington, the first town west of the moun- 
tains granted by Benning Wentworth in 1749, and for 
whom it was named. 

The war of the grants arose because the territory 
lying between the Connecticut River and twenty miles east 
of the Hudson was claimed, and under grants, by both 
New York and New Hampshire. The Green Mountain 
Boys' or the Bennington party's contention was almost 
wholly against New York, and its object was to make itself 
independent of New York's dominion. It had no real 
cause of contention with New Hampshire, and probably 
but for another party with other objects would have had no 
opposition. History shows no good reason for thinking 
that New Hampshire grants lying east of the river, in 
which was its seat of government, would not so far have 
been in sympathy with the contention of the west-side 
towns with New York, that they soon would have con- 
sented to a new state west of the river, embracing what 
later, under different conditions, became Vermont, Nor is 


it non-supposable that without the contentions of other 
parties and schemes, that the interests of the west-side 
towns would have become the interest of the east-side 
towns, so that there would have been no need of a state of 
Vermont, and all would have remained New Hampshire. 

But there was another party with other aims and 
aspirations, known as the "College party/' moved and 
manipulated by a coterie of the Harvard and Yale men, 
who came with Eleazer Wheelock and joined him later in 
the new college of Dartmouth, located, finally, at Hanover 
instead of Haverhill, where the grounds for it had first 
been laid out. Men of education and political ambitions, 
who had not yet learned the "Cobbler best stick to his 
lasts," who as soon as the final establishment of the college 
at Hanover, started the scheme of making a state of the 
grants on both sides of the river and east of the Green 
Mountains, under the name of "New Connecticut," with 
Hanover as its seat of government as well as its seat of 
learning. This party ripened and cast its seeds during the 
years of the Revolution, ever ready to act with or intrigue 
against either the Bennington party or the state of New 
Hampshire, as it did do with both. A catalog of the 
college party's acts gives no evidence of a single inspiration 
or impulse to make a state for the "general good." Long 
before Doctor Holmes discovered Boston to be the "hub" 
of the universe, the College party tried to set all things 
revolving around Hanover. It argued its side with all the 
arts of the educated, and the Bennington party with all 
the arts of natural politicians at their best. 

The college men created schisms on both sides of the 
river, which caused bluff old Ethan Allen to say of them, 
"They are a petulent, petifogging, scribbling gentry that 
will keep any government in hot water till they are brought 
under exertions of authority." 

With Eleazer Wheelock, the head of Dartmouth Col- 
lege, had come a number of wealthy and educated gradu- 
ates of Harvard and Yale, who were alive to all public 


matters, and soon after these were followed by others of 
the same kind, all of whom sought to make, and did make, 
the college a political center. Coming, as most of the 
settlers did, from neighboring towns in Connecticut, there 
was a strong neighborly feeling in all social and political 
affairs in the contiguous settlements. Lebanon and Han- 
over, on the east side of the river, and Hartford and Nor- 
wich on the west side, were settled by neighbors of YVhee- 
lock in Connecticut, and were purposely chartered on the 
same day, July 4, 1761, the first of Benning Wentworth's 
new grants, and the first in the Connecticut upper valley. 
Lyme followed four days and Hartland six days later. 
Thetford was granted in August and Orford in September; 
Haverhill, in May; Cornish, in June, and Newbury in 
August, 1763. So Hanover was quite the geographical, as 
well as the political, center of these towns. 

Wheelock, as president of the college, was made also a 
magistrate over the college portion of the town, which com- 
prised a territory three miles square, under the name of 
"Dresden." Why under that name, no one has told. "College 
Hall, Dresden," was for a considerable time the headquar- 
ters of the College party, or an inner coterie of that party. 
The first fight of the College party, or the Dresden coterie, 
was in 1775-76, against the New Hampshire Provincial 
Congress at Exeter, on the matter of representation of 
incorporated towns. This meant the grouping of several 
towns for one representative. No change was granted, 
and the college town remained for some time without rep- 
resentation. Finally their leaders were entirely beaten in 
the contention for a representative for each incorporated 
town, by the act of a new Council and House of Repre- 

(To be continued) 

i : 



No. I 

^.%^s*#— <&. 

v ■ .-■■ 



If: I A 

l>t V ; 



^ ii£&& 



- J 



From the Original Painting by Benjamin T. Newman 


Character Sketches 

"The Soap Maker" 

Under the caption of " Chara&er Sketches " we propose to give a series of 
worthy pictures depi&ing some phase or condition of real life, accompanied by 
short descriptive articles relating to them. The list will include, besides the above 
named, the Village Blacksmith, the Plowman, the Miller, the Fisherman, the 
Weaver, the Sower, and other subje&s.-"£cfrYor. 

-■ % 

^iANY of our older readers will distinctly recall this 
old-time custom of making the soap for family 
use. All of the refuse fat during the year was 
saved and the wood ashes kept until spring. Then 
the good housewife was expected to perform one of the hard- 
est of the hard tasks of her life- -soap making. Two posts, 
with notches or branches at the top to receive the cross stick, 
were driven firmly into the ground, and an old iron kettle, 
holding perhaps four gallons, was suspended from this im- 
promtu arm. Into this vessel was placed the soap grease and 
a fire built under it. Nearby a half molasses hogshead was 
placed upon a raised platform and filled with the ashes, which 
were statuated with pails of water from the spring. When 
the water had had time to permeate the ashes the strong liquid 
calied lye was drawn out by means of a spiggot at the bottom, 
and this added to the greasy substance obtained from the 
boiling of the matter in the kettle, and the old 'fashioned "soft 
soap " was produced, strong enough to remove the most ob- 
stinate coating of dirt if it did not remove the material itself or 
the skin from the hands of the washer. Until within com- 
paraiively a few years this was the only kind of soap used 
among ihe country people of New England. 

Our picture is a reproduction of Mr. Benjamin T. New^ 
man's famous oil painting, " The New England Soap Makers." 
The original, which it is impossible to reproduce in the fullness 
of its art, is most striking both for its size and for the character 
of the work. There are two figures, in lifelike proportions, a 
homely, humble woman of the New England farm, bent by 
toil of years and clad in the simple garments of an old-fash- 
ioned rural community; the other, a child kneeling by the 
twig-fed fire, adding with his chubby hand a bit of fuel be- 
neath a huge iron pot. It is pre-eminently a figure study. The 
landscape is subdued. Every interest centers in these two at 
their humble toil. In the woman's pose there is almost a sug- 
gestion of Millet's woman in his famous " Angelus," and 
Breton's female figure in oil which hangs in the Museum of 
Fine Arts in Boston. 

The New England man finds pleasure in this masterpiece 
of Mr. Newman's because of its art, of course, but especially 
because its art is essentially American and typically New Eng- 
land. It is the sort of painting which is of lasting value and 

sure to be appreciated more as the years roll on and the trolley 


and the auto make the rural type less and less frequently seen 





* 5, 

"c? a 

C _, 

















C u 


if eto Cfampsfjire $Sen at bunker ^tll 

By John C. French 

y^^HE "Seven Years' War," that closed in 1760, had 
'UL v completely aroused the military spirit of the pro- 

^^ vince, and organizations with experienced officers 
had been maintained up to the time of the Revolution. A 
new regiment was then formed, the 12th, comprising men 
from the towns of Nottingham, Deerfleld, Epsom, North- 
wood, Chichester and Pittsfield. "Coming events cast their 
shadows before." The people expected a serious conflict. 

The location of McClary's tavern made it a common 
resort for the rustic foresters to meet and talk of the diffi* 
culties, while the popularity and ability of the jovial land- 
lord rendered him the political and military oracle of the 
Suncook Valley. 

The battle of Lexington, on the 19th of April, 1775, 
sounded the tocsin to arms. Signals flamed from the hill- 
tops and fleet messengers transmitted news from town to 
town. A swift rider blowing a horn passed through Not- 
tingham and reached Epsom on the morning of the 20th. 
The alarm found Captain McClary plowing in the old 
"Muster field." Like Cincinnatus of old, he left the plow 
in the furrow, and hastened to obey the summons. With 
little preparation he seized his saddle-bags, leaped into the 
saddle, swearing as he left that he would kill one of the 
devils before he came home. Jockey Fogg, who was his 
servant in the army, used to speak of his horse as a large, 
powerful, iron-grey, four-year-old stallion, so exceedingly 
vicious that no one could mount or govern him except the 
captain. He could spring upon his back and, by the power 
of his arm, govern him with the greatest ease. 

The sturdy yeomanry of the Suncook Valley snatched 
their trusty firelocks and powder horns and started for the 



scene of hostilities, with spirits as brave as ever animated 
a soldier and with hearts as noble and honest as ever 
throbbed in the cause of liberty and freedom. They were 
governed by one common impulse and came from blazed 
paths and crooked roads that wound through the forests 
and thickets. They were all known to each other as 
brothers and townsmen. Each soldier represented a house- 
hold and they and their cause were commended to the pro- 
tection of Heaven at the morning and evening devotions 
and in the services of the Sabbath. Donations of food 
and clothing were freely sent them by the families at home. 
The men from this section reached Nottingham Square at 
one o'clock in the early afternoon, where they found Cap- 
tain Cilley and Dr. Dearborn with a company of about 
sixty, making with themselves about eighty men. Who 
would not have liked to have seen those men, some with 
broad-tailed black coats, worsted stockings, three-cornered 
hats, others in coarse homespun; all with long stockings, 
knee and shoe buckles and thick cowhide shoes? Their 
guns and equipments were as various as their costumes. 
Some had the old "Queen Anne," that had done service in 
the French War; some long fowling pieces; others a fusee; 
only one had a bayonet. Powder horn and shot pouch took 
the place of cartridge box. If we were to choose a subject 
for an historical painting, we would prefer the scene on 
Nottingham Square, April 29th, where were paraded the 
noblest band of patriots that ever left New Hampshire to 
vindicate her honor and protect her liberties. We would 
like to hear the roll-call and see a photograph of these 
heroes. Without the spirit of boasting, we doubt if ever 
one company in the country furnished so large a proportion 
of. distinguished men or that cost "John Bull" so many 
lives or so much money. Many of their names are historic 
and come down to us in official records, filling a large space 
in our military history. Just reflect who composed this 
Spartan band, who not only astonished the nation with 
their famous deeds and heroism at the battel of Bunker 


Hill, but consider their position and power in after years. 
There was Captain McClary, the oldest and noblest Roman 
of them all, whose sad fall is familiar to every school boy; 
Captain Joseph Cilley of Nottingham, aged 32, soon to be 
promoted Major, Colonel and General, serving through the 
war with distinction, and in 1786 appointed Major-General 
of the New Hampshire Militia; Dr. Henry Dearborn, but 
24, to be Captain, then Major and Colonel, then member of 
Congress, United States Marshal, Secretary of War under 
Jefferson, Foreign Minister and Commander-in-Chief of the 
United States Army in the War of 1812; Thomas Bartlett, 
afterwards Captain, Member of the Committee of Safety, 
then Colonel in the army, and in 1792 Brigadier-General of 
the Militia; Henry Butler, but 21, afterwards Captain 
under Colonel Bartlett and Major-General of the New 
Hampshire Militia; Amos Merrill, first selectman of Epsom, 
Lieutenant, then Captain and Major, serving in the army 
four years, with honor to himself and town; the young and 
chivalrous Michael McClary, who served with credit four 
years in the Revolution, then represented the military 
spirit of the State for nearly half a century, and as Adju- 
tant-General called out the Northern troops in 18 12; 
Andrew McGaffney, another worthy officer from Epsom; 
also James Gray and Nathan Sanborn, both gaining the 
position of Captain in the army, and Joseph Hilton of 

Captain Andrew McClary was by common consent 
the leading spirit of this noble band of patriots, though 
there had been no previous organization. There is much 
to be written concerning the achievements and adventures 
of this distinguished company and many of the able men 
composing it, but the most remarkable and thriling inci- 
dent in this connection was their famous march to Cam- 
bridge. There is not a parallel in the annals of all the 
wars in our country and such wonderful power of endur- 
ance by a whole company of men excites our surprise as 
their patriotism does our pride and admiration Dr. Dear- 

•V S9S9 



born gives an account of it and Bancroft a passing notice, 
and tradition relates it from generation to generation, but 
it should be familiar to every son and daughter of New 
Hampshire as one of the brightest testimonials of our 
devotion to the cause of freedom and independence. 
Accustomed as they were to life in the open air and trials 
of strength by long journeys, hunting, tramping and 
scouting, they knew little of fear and fatigue. Leaving 
Nottingham Square at one o'clock in the afternoon, they 
pushed on at a rapid pace, as if the destiny of the province 
or hopes of the nation depended upon their alacrity and 
speed. At Kingston they took a "double quick" or "dog 
trot," and followed it up without a halt to Haverhill, cross- 
ing the Merrimack River in a ferry boat at sunset, having 
made twenty-seven miles in six hours. They halted at 
Andover for supper, and then started for a night march 
and on the morning of the 21st, at sunrise, they were 
paraded on Cambridge Common "spilin" for a fight. 
Those from Epsom traveled seventy miles in less than 
twenty-four hours and the whole company from Nottingham 
fifty-seven miles in less than twenty hours. Did bone and 
muscle ever do better? That was the spirit of '76; that 
was the kind of stuff the men were made of who lived in 
the Suncook Valley at this time. 

The part which the soldiers of the Suncook Valley 
and adjoining towns took in this memorable fight has 
never yet been written, and we propose now to give it in 
full. For personal courage and firmness the battle of 
Bunker Hill stands among the first in the brilliant events 
of the war. When we inquire who were the men that 
gained the highest prize of glory in this great contest 
which ushered in our nation's birth, we can with honest 
pride claim for the men of the Suncook Valley a rich share 
of the praise and honor bestowed upon the soldiers of this 
memorable battle. The company from this section was not 
only composed of men who afterwards became distinguished 
in the Revolution, and at the outset made the best march 


ever recorded in our military history, but it was one of the 
largest and best companies on the field and held a post of 
honor in the engagement. The American army, composed 
of rustic heroes who had left their implements of husbandry 
in the field and seized their firearms and powder horns and 
flocked to the scene of action, holding the British cooped 
up in the narrow limits of Boston, was without proper 
organization, equipment, ammunition and supplies; in fact, 
they had nothing but pluck, a righteous cause and a love of 
liberty to sustain their hopes. They were commanded by 
General Artemas Ward, an old, incompetent army officer. 
The New Hampshire troops who, as the news of the 
slaughter of Lexington and Concord spread like wildfire 
over the land had rushed to the place of rendezvous, 
organized into two regiments and lay entrenched at Med- 
ford. John Stark, by unanimous voice, was chosen to com- 
mand the first under the rank of Colonel, with Andrew 
McClary as Major. The company composed of soldiers 
from Pittsfield, Chichester, Epsom, Deerfield and Notting- 
ham was commanded by Henry Dearborn of Nottingham, 
Captain, Amos Morrill of Epsom Lieutenant, and Michael 
McClary of Epsom, Ensign. The British having become 
impatient of restraint determined to take the offensive. 
The first design in their plan was to move on the 18th of 
June and take possession of Bunker Hill which com- 
manded the City of Boston and would enable them to 
annoy the American lines. Fortunately this design 
became known to General Ward and he was urged to antici- 
pate the movement and frustrate the plan. He accord- 
ingly ordered a detachment of about a thousand men to 
march stealthily during the night of the 16th and entrench 
themselves on the commanding eminence. At sunset the 
men were paraded on Cambridge Common and stood rever- 
ently with uncovered heads while President Langdon of 
Harvard College offered a fervent prayer and commended 
them and their cause to the protection of Heaven. Then 
they took up their silent march, passing the narrow neck 


of land that connects Charlestown with the main land, and 
reached the summit of the hill without being discovered 
by the enemy. The bells in Boston tolled the hour of 
midnight before a sod was turned. In three short hours 
the shadowy folds of night would lift and expose this bold 
advance and this brave band to the view and fire of the 
enemy, who lay in the harbor. The British ships "Lively," 
"Falcon" and "Somerset" lay in the stream between 
Charlestown and Boston and from the decks of these 
the drowsy cry of the sentinel, "All's well," could be dis- 
tinctly heard by those who patroled the shore. The Amer- 
icans applied the pick and spade with vigor and threw up 
a square redoubt, near the middle of which the monument 
now stands. At daylight the enemy, discovering this dar- 
ing band of patriots entrenched almost over their heads, 
immediately opened a brisk cannonade upon their works; 
but, regardless of the flying missiles, the Americans toiled 
on until their work was completed, with a loss of but one 
man. This bold stand caused an instant commotion 
among the startled British, who immediately landed their 
forces and attacked the entrenchment to dislodge our men 
from their position. All was soon commotion along the 
American lines. General Stark and Major McClary came 
down to Charlestown in the morning to reconnoitre the 
field and made many valuable suggestions in the prepara- 
tion for the Conflict which it was evident was about to 
open. The movement of the British indicated a formid- 
able attack, and orders were issued for re-enforcements to 
be forwarded to the redoubt. But such was the want of 
discipline and the conflict of authority that few reached 
the scene of action 

The battle of Bunker Hill was a series of blunders 
and unequalled heroism. It was fought without a com- 
mander, each regiment acting and fighting on its own 
hook. Two of the regiments that had been ordered to the 
redoubt halted at the neck, which was swept with a con- 
tinual discharge of chain and solid shot from the ships of 


war. It was at this juncture that the New Hampshire 
troops under Colonel Stark came up, hurrying forward to 
the aid of their comrades in the redoubt. Each of the sol- 
diers had received a gill of powder, fifteen balls and a spare 
flint. There were scarcely two muskets alike in the regi- 
ment, and the men were compelled to reduce the size of 
the balls to suit the calibre of their respective guns. They 
had received orders to be in readiness to march about ten 
o'clock, and reached Charlestown Neck about one. 

It was one of the hottest days of the season and the 
men suffered severely from heat and thirst, yet every man 
was ready for a tilt with the British regulars. Finding the 
way blocked up with the halted regiments, Major McClary 
went forward and with his stentorian voice and command- 
ing appearance called out to the commanders of these regi- 
ments to move on or open to the right and left and let the 
New Hampshire boys pass. This was immediately done; 
the regiments opened and they marched forward. The fire 
across the neck from the British frigates was so galling 
that Captain Dearborn, whose company was in front, as he 
marched by the side of Stark, suggested to him that they 
take a quicker step, but the grim old veteran sternly 
replied, "Dearborn, one fresh man is worth ten fatigued 
ones," and strode on as coolly as though on parade, and not 
a man of his command flinched or deserted his post. 

They reached the hill about two o'clock. Stark halted 
below the redoubt and harangued his men in a few short, 
characteristic sentences which were answered by three 
hearty cheers from his men. When he arrived he found 
the redoubt exposed to a flank movement from the enemy 
and, selecting his position with the practised eye of an old 
soldier, he led his regiment to the left of the hill and 
posted them near a rail fence, cast off of the redoubt 
which run down to the Mystic. This was then a hay field, 
the grass having been cut the day before. The men seized 
the hay cocks and crowded the hay between the rails of 
the fence, giving it the appearance to the enemy of a 


breastwork, though it afforded no real protection. Captain 
Dearborn's company was posted on the right of the line, 
which gave them a fine view of the action, and his written 
account of the battle throws much light upon the part 
borne by Major McClary and his men. 

The British had then landed in large forces and were 
forming for the attack near the water's edge. While this 
was going on Colonel Stark stepped out and, deliberately 
measuring off forty paces, stuck down a stick. "There," 
said he, as he returned to the line, "don't a man fire until 
the Redcoats come to that stick; if he does, I will knock 
him down." 

The British regulars, in their gay scarlet uniforms, 
presented a formidable and beautiful appearance as they 
marched and counter-marched in preparation for the attack. 
They at length moved forward with the order and precis- 
ion of a dress parade. The column that was to make the 
attack upon the rail fence was commanded by General 
Howe in person, and was composed of the Welsh Fusileers, 
the veteran regiment and the flower of the British army. 
On they came, as if flushed with the prestige of one hun- 
dred victories. When within one hundred yards of the 
rail fence, they deployed into line and opened a regular 
fire by platoon as they advanced. 

Along the whole line of the rail fence lay the New 
-Hampshire boys, peeping through the hay, their guns resting 
on the rails, every man a dead shot and knowing his trusty 
firelock was good for a Redcoat, but intent on reserving his 
fire until they reached the stake; but John Simpson, better 
known as Ensign Simpson of Deerfield, being too much 
excited to wait, let drive, and this was a signal for a mur- 
derous fire along the whole line, so severe that the bold 
Britishers were driven back in confusion and disorder. 
Simpson, being reprimanded by Stark for firing against 

his orders, drawled out, "How in could I help it when 

I see them Redcoats within gunshot?" 


The fate of the British in front of the redoubt was 
equally disastrous, and their whole line was thrown into 
coufusion and compelled to retire before the well-directed 
fire of the despised Continentals. They were, however, 
rallied by their officers, and being re-enforced again moved 
up the hill on the redoubt and upon the rail fence below in 
the same perfect order as before. "Don't waste the pow- 
der," "Pick off the officers," "Look out for the handsome 
coats," Take good aim," and similar remarks were passed 
from mouth to mouth in Captain Dearborn's company. 
Don't fire until they pass the stick and I say the word," 
said Stark. "Fire low and aim at their waistbands," rang 
the clear voice of Major McClary as he moved along the 
line, encouraging the men by word and example. 

On came the British, making the same imposing display 
as before, stepping over their fallen comrades and firing as 
they advanced. 

An ominous silence held possession of the American 
lines, not a shot was fired from the rail fence until the 
enemy reached the stick, when, "Fire!" yelled Stark, 
and, "Fire!" thundered McClary, and never did a volley 
of musketry do more fatal execution. 

Almost the entire front rank of the Welsh Fusileers 
went down. No troops could stand the fire which blazed 
from that rail fence, pouring into their bosoms a storm of 
lead which swept them down like the mown grass. The 
officers were nearly all picked off. General Howe's aids 
were all shot but one. Howe himself made the most vigor- 
ous efforts to urge on his men. His long white silk stock- 
ings were smeared with blood that fell like rain upon the 
tall grass. British honor and British valor were at stake 
and cost what it might he was determined to urge them on 
to victory. There was but one mounted officer upon the 
field during the engagment and as he rode forward to aid 
in steadying the wavering columns and urge them to 
advance, Captain Dearborn's men caught sight of him and 
the captain writes that he heard them say: 


"There is an officer on horseback, let's have him." 
"Now, hold on, wait until he gets to the knoll; now!" 
They fired and Major Pitcairn of Lexington fame fell dead 
at the hands of Captain Dearborn's men. Meanwhile the 
whole regiment with the rapidity which men practiced in 
the use of the gun alone can exhibit loaded and fired, keep- 
ing up a continued stream of fire until the Redcoats despite 
the efforts of their officers broke and ran, leaving the 
ground strewn with the dead and dying. 

The Americans, jubilant at their success and carried 
away with the tempest of excitement leaped the rail fence 
and chased the fleeing regulars until restrained by their 
officers and brought back to their post. Their joy and 
exultation knew no bounds; they had won a victory and 
driven the proud, defiant army of old King George. They 
threw up their hands and made the welkin ring with shouts 
of triumph, though their tongues were parched with thirst 
and heat. They thought the day was won. 

Twice scattered before their scathing, well-directed 
fire, they had no thought the enemy would rally again, but 
Clinton who had viewed the struggle from Copp's Hill in 
Boston now hurried over to the scene of action. It would 
never do to have it go out to the world that two thousand 
well-armed British troops had been routed beyond rallying 
before a little band of half-armed Continentals. Being 
re-enforced the troops were again formed into line and 
marched to the assault, but the Americans had already 
exhausted their ammunition, and without bayonets they 
could offer but feeble resistance to furious bayonet charges 
from the enemy. Those in the redoubt were compelled 
to beat a hasty retreat. 

The New Hampshire troops retired in excellent order 
and covered the retreat of the army. They were the last 
to leave the field and Major McClary was in the rear main- 
taining order and discipline. During the engagement Cap- 
tain Dearborn lost but one man killed and five wounded, 
while the slaughter on the British side had been terrible. 


Of the regiment of the Welsh Fusileers, but eighty men 
escaped unharmed. 

As the Americans retreated across the neck, Major 
McClary was remarkably animated with the result of the 
contest; that it was a conflict with the glorious display of 
valor which had distinguished his countrymen, made him 
sanguine of the result. Having passed the last place of 
danger he went back to see if the British were disposed to 
follow them across the neck, thus exposing himself to dan- 
ger anew. His son cautioned him against his rashness. 
"The ball is not yet cast that will kill me," said he, when a 
random shot from one of the frigates struck a button-wood 
tree and, glancing, passed through his abdomen. Throw- 
ing his hands above his head, he leaped several feet from 
the ground and fell forward upon his face, dead. 

Thus fell Major Andrew McClary, the highest Amer- 
ican officer killed in the battle, the handsomest man in 
the army and the favorite of the New Hampshire troops. 
His dust still slumbers where it was laid by his sorrowing 
comrades in Medford, unhonored by any adequate memo- 
rial to tell where lies one of the heroes who ushered in the 
Revolution with such auspicious omens. 

Major McClary had a splendid physique and soldierly 
appearance. With all the bravery of Stark, he possessed 
greater mental endowments and culture. With the natural 
ability of Sullivan, he possessed the magic power to incite 
his men to nobler deeds. With the popularity of Poor, he 
was more cool and discreet; in fact, he combined more 
completely than either the elements that tend to make a 
popular and successful commander, and had his life been 
spared he would doubtless have ranked among the most 
able and noted officers of the Revolution. 

<Cf)e <®lb Countrp Ctoab 

By James Newton Matthews 

Where did it come from, and where did it go? 
That was the question that puzzled us so, 
As we waded the dust of the highway that flowed 
By the farm, like a river — the old country road. 

We stood with the hair sticking up through the crown 
Of our hats, as the people went up and went down, 
And we wished in our hearts, as our eyes fairly glowed, 
We could find where it came from — the old country road. 

We remember the peddler who came with his pack 
Adown the old highway, and never went back; 
And we wondered what things he had seen as he strode 
From some fabulous place up the old country road. 

We remember the stage-driver's look of delight, 
And the crack of his whip as he whirled into sight, 
And we thought we could read in each glance he bestowed 
A tale of strange life up the old country road. 

The movers came by like a ship in full sail, 
With a rudder behind in the shape of a pail — 
With a rollicking crew, and a cow that was towed 
With a rope on her horns, down the old country road. 

And the gypsies — how well we remember the week 
They camped by the old covered bridge on the creek — 
How the neighbors quit work, and the crops were unhoed, 
Till the wagons drove off down the old country road. 

Oh, the top of the hill was the rim of the world, 
And the dust of the summer that over it curled 
Was the curtain that hid from our sight the abode 
Of the fairies that lived up the old country road. 

The old country road! I can see it still flow 
Down the hill of my dreams, as it did long ago, 
And I wish even now I could lay off my load, 
And rest by the side of the old country road. 


General j^tcfjael ^©cClarp 

By John C. French 


ICHAEL, second son of Esquire John McClary, 
was born in Epsom in 1753. He received the 
advantages of a fair education, was a smart, 
active lad and, in common with other members of the 
family, had military tastes. At the age of twenty-three, 
he joined the army at the breaking out of the Revolu- 
tionary War, and was appointed Ensign in Captain Henry 
Dearborn's company in Stark's regiment. This company 
rendered heroic service at the battle of Bunker Hill. In 
1777 he was promoted and made Captain in Colonel Scam- 
mel's regiment. He served four years in the army, taking 
part in some of the most decisive engagements of the war, 
and suffered with his men some of the severest privations 
and fatigues. 

His soldierly qualities, engaging manners and family 
connections gave him the acquaintance and friendship of 
the leading officers of the Revolution, and by a severe 
experience in the army he gained a thorough knowlege of 
men and national affairs, which proved of great practical 
advantage in after years. On returning from the army, he 
at once took a prominent position in social and political 
life, which he held for half a century. He took an active 
part in the organization of the State Government and, 
being well versed in military affairs and of good executive 
ability, he was appointed Adjutant-General for the State of 
New Hampshire. He organized that department and held 
the office twenty-one consecutive years. In 1796 he was 
elected Senator and was a member of that body seven 
years, and such was his popularity that the votes in Epsom 
were unanimous in his favor and nearly so in the adjoining 
towns. He was Ignited States Marshal for a long time, 



which, during the last war with England, with the large 
amount of privateering prosecuted at Portsmouth, was a 
very responsible office. He was tendered the nomination 
of candidate for Governor, but declined to accept. Though 
well known throughout the State, with positions of honor 
and trust at his command, his popularity, power and influ- 
ence in his native town was remarkable. He seemed to 
control the affairs of Epsom with almost universal consent. 
For over fifty years he served his townsmen in some 
capacity, either as Moderator, Town Clerk, Representative 
or Auditor. 

Said an old Federalist, "If I had a family of children 
who would obey me as well as the people of Epsom do 
General McClary, I should be a happy man." Though 
once a Federalist, he cast his lot with the Democratic 
party and carried the town with him almost unanimously. 
During the last war with England, party feeling ran high 
and party lines were closely drawn. Governor Plummer, 
through Adjutant-General McClary, called out detach- 
ments of the militia without calling together the Council 
or Legislature, which provoked a great deal of controversy. 
General McClary procured supplies for the troops, made 
preparation for the defense of Portsmouth, purchased can- 
non and munitions of war. But in 1814, when the Feder- 
alists rallied and elected John T. Gilman as Governor, 
General McClary resigned his office with virtuous indigna- 
tion, which he had filled with credit and ability, and in 
which capacity he had reviewed every regiment in the 

The town of Epsom strongly supported the war. A 
full company, under Captain Jonathan Godfrey, volunteered 
for the defense of Portsmouth. 

Michael McClary also did much business as justice of 
the peace and probate judge. He took an active part in 
organizing the New Hampshire Branch of the Society of 
the Cincinnati. He was the first treasurer and held the 
office twenty-five years. This honorable body of Revolu- 


tionary officers met annually on the Fourth of July. Three 
of their annual meetings were held at the house of General 
MeClary. This society is worthy of more extended men- 
tion, and their annual meetings called together more 
noted men than ever assembled on any other occasion. He 
was also a Free Mason. While in the army young Me- 
Clary had met in secret conclave such men as Washington, 
Lafayette, Sullivan and other brothers of the mystic order 
and became an earnest worker in the craft. In connection 
with other ex-officers he was instrumental in organizing a 
lodge at Deerfleld, and in honor of General Sullivan it was 
called Sullivan Lodge. He was the first Senior of this 
lodge, and afterwards Worshipful Master. In appearance 
General MeClary was tall, commanding, well proportioned 
and prepossessing. He made a fine appearance as a mili- 
tary officer, either on foot or in the saddle, which, with his 
position, means, and hospitality rendered him exceedingly 
popular. He was remarkably affable and engaging in his 
manners, interesting in conversation, graceful in his move- 
ments, convivial in his habits, generous and public-spirited, 
fond of power, and when opposed displayed some traits not 
recorded among the Christian graces. His acquaintance 
and correspondence was remarkably extensive, embracing 
many of the most distinguished men of the country. 

He married, in 1779, Sally Dearborn, an intelligent, 
interesting and accomplished lady, daughter of Dr. Dear- 
born of Northampton. They entertained company with 
Style and grace, and around their festive board have been 
many happy meetings of the prominent men of the times. 
They had five children. The oldest son, John, born in 
1785, was of great personal beauty. He was early pro- 
moted to offices of trust, Representative, Senator and a 
clerkship at Washington. He was killed by a falling build- 
ing when but thirty-six years of age. The second son, 
Andrew, born in 1787, was wild and roving. He entered 
the army in the War of 1812 and served as Captain. He 
married Mehitable Duncan of Concord, in 181 3, and had 


one daughter. Shortly after he sailed for Calcutta and was 
lost at sea. General McClary also had three daughters. 
The oldest, Nancy Dearborn, born in 1789, married Samuel 
Lord of Portsmouth, whose ability and wealth is well 
known. One of his sons, Augustus, purchased a large part 
of the old McClary estate. The second daughter, Elis- 
abeth Harvey, married Jonathan Steele, a lawyer from 
Peterboro. The third daughter, Mary, born in 1794, mar- 
ried Robert Parker and lived in Fitzwilliam. 

General McClary and wife both lived to old age. He 
died in 1825, aged 72, and was buried with his ancestors in 
Epsom, where rests the dust of many heroic dead, whose 
lives and deeds are fast fading from the memory of pass- 
ing generations. 

Cfje teurn 

By John Burroughs 

He sought the old scenes with eager feet, 
The scenes he had known as a boy; 
"Oh, for a draught of those fountains sweet, 
And a taste of that vanished joy." 

He roamed the fields, he wooed the streams, 
His schoolboy paths essayed to trace, 

The orchard ways recalled his dreams, 
The hills were like his mother's face. 

O sad, sad hills! O cold, cold hearth! 

In sorrow he learned this truth — 
One may return to the land of his birth, 

He cannot go back to his youth 

Wj^wmL ft 

v^f-a^Z '-ft-. 


f% m 

Drawn by Gordon Brown 


Carlp ^igcoberers! of America 


The Norsemen in New Hampshire 
By Arthur W. Dudley 

The Norse narratives of their discoveries have the credit of being the 
clearest and most explicit of all the accounts given of the early voyages to 
America. While the stories of the Spanish and even the English so abound 
with the wonderful and incredible as to destroy largely their value, those 
of the Northmen are almost entirely free of superstitious happenings and 
relate in a plain, straightforward style where they went and what they 
*aw, though written at least two hundred years before the others. — Editor 


NE of the first historical lessons taught in our 
schools is the alleged discovery of America by the 
Genoese navigator, Christopher Columbus, A. D. 
1492, and it is probable that a majority of the people of 
North America believe that the Western Continent was 
unknown to the inhabitants of Europe until this beneficiary 
of the Spanish sovereigns made his memorable voyage. 
Landing upon one of the Bahama Islands, he proceeded to 
take possession of the New World in the name of the 
Spanish crown. While we have no desire to detract in the 
least from the glory and credit due to Columbus we, in the 
light of actual records, and also from monuments that are 
found along our New England and provincial coast, which 
in every instance accord with these records, are forced to 
the conclusion that his discovery of the New World, as a 
discovery, is but a myth. America was well known to the 
Norsemen as long before the time of Columbus as it is 
from his time to the present day. 

The Norse Sagas, or records, were until recent years 
believed to be allegorical in character and unreliable in 



statement. Even Bancroft, in his "History of the United 
States," published in 1834, in Vol. I., alludes to them and 
says, "The story of the colonization of America by North- 
men rests on narrative mythological in form and obscure 
in meaning; ancient yet not contemporary." 

The Norsemen were a race of bold, sea-faring men 
who originally inhabited the Scandinavian shores and 
who, having colonized Iceland about the year 700, estab- 
lished settlements in Greenland about twenty-five years 
later, explored the coast of North America from Labrador, 
including that of the Maritime Provinces, and New Eng- 
land as far south as Long Island Sound, in the interim 
between A. D. 985 and A. D. 1100. 

The famous Saga of Eric the Red, which gives the 
original accounts of the Northmen's voyages to Vinland 
or Wineland (as the New England coast was called by 
them) exists in two different versions, that known as the 
"Hauks-bok," written by Hauk Erlendsson, between 1305 
and 1334, and that made about 1387 by the Priest Jon 
Thordharson. The latter is contained in the compilation 
known as the "Flateyar-bok" or "Flat-Island Book." Jon 
used parts of the original Saga and added a considerable 
amount of material concerning the Vinland voyages 
derived from other sources. The Vinland voyages belong 
to about the year 1000. These Icelandic chronicles were 
doubtless based upon the earlier writings and legends 
which had come down from the times of Leif and Thor- 
vald Ericson (Sons of Eric). An interesting and val- 
uable confirmation of the simple fact of the visit of the 
Northmen to Vinland is given us by Adam of Bremen, 
who visited Denmark in 1047. In speaking of the Scan- 
dinavian countries in his book, he not only describes the 
colonies in Iceland and Greenland, but says that there is 
another beyond, called Vinland, on account of the wild 
grapes that grow there. He says that corn also grows in 
Vinland without cultivation, and he adds that his testimony 
is based upon "trustworthy reports of the Danes." 


The great work of Professor Charles Christian Rafn 
of Copenhagen "Antiquitates Americane," published in 
1S37, brought these Icelandic Sagas prominently before 
nlodern scholars. Another most valuable work is that of 
Arthur Middleton Reeves — "The History of the Icelandic 
Discovery of America." De Costa's "Pre-Columbian Dis- 
covery of America by the Northmen" and Shafter's 
"Voyages of the Northmen to America" are earlier works 
that go over the same ground. Fiske, in his "Discovery of 
America," takes up the Norsemen's voyages in Vol. I., 
chapter 2. Most of these writers, while they do not 
attempt to definitely locate the territory called Vinland, 
agree that the conditions are more nearly fulfilled along the 
New England coast. Mr Fiske is inclined to the belief 
that it was somewhere between Cape Cod and the mouth 
of the Pascataqua River. The further fact that wild grapes 
grow in greater abundance on the New England coast than 
farther north seems to corroborate this view. The claim 
that Columbus knew of these discoveries of the Northmen, 
and that he was influenced by them is quite probable. 

From the "Saga of Eric the Red," we learn that about 
965, A. D., Eric and his father, Thorvald, on account of 
some difficulty in which they had become involved, went 
from Jaederen in Eastern Norway to Iceland, and settled 
in Drangar. There Thorvald died. Eric married Thor- 
hild, a daughter of Jorund, and removed to Haukadal, in 
the south of Iceland. Eric, who was a man of strong 
passions, became again involved in difficulties and after 
removing several times was condemned to outlawry. He 
then "equiped a ship and sailed westward across the main," 
and arrived first at an ice mountain, which he called "Black- 
sark." "From thence he sailed southward, that he might 
ascertain whether there was habitable country in that direc- 
tion." He finally selected a site for his settlement at a place 
that he named "Ericsfirth," and remained three years. 
"He called the country Greenland, because he said that 
people would be attracted thither if the country had a good 


name." The following summer he returned to Iceland and 
remained there for a year. "The next summer Eric set 
out to colonize the land that he had discovered," and that 
season "twenty-five ships sailed to Greenland out of Borg- 
firth and Broadfirth," but fourteen only reached their des- 
tination. Several were driven back and some were lost. 
This was in the year 985, and fifteen years before Christi- 
anity was legally adopted in Iceland. Eric and Thornhild 
had born to them three sons— Leif, Thorvald, and Thorn- 
stien, and a daughter named Freydis. These, according to 
the Norse custom, were called after their father, Leif 
Erics-son, Thorvald Erics-son, etc., and thus originated the 
name as now given, Leif Ericson. 

The children all seem to have inherited the roving dis- 
position of the father, and many pages of the Saga are 
devoted to accounts of their minor voyages, more partic- 
ularly those of Leif, who was a man of great energy and 
enterprise. Leif sailed to Norway and was at the court of 
King Olaf. He also landed in the Hebrides and there 
married. He returned to Norway and was commissioned 
by King Olaf to proclaim Christianity in Greenland. 
"Leif put to sea when his ship was ready for the voyage" 
and for a long time he was tossed about upon the ocean. 
and came upon land of which he previously had no knowl- 
edge. There were self-sown w T heat fields and vines grow- 
ing there. There were also those trees called "Mauser", 
(Maples). Some of them were of great size. Leif also 
found men upon a wreck and took them with him. "He 
sailed northward and landed in Ericsfirth, and was well 
received by all. He proclaimed Christianity throughout 
the land and announced King Olaf's messages to the 
people, telling them how much excellence and how great 
glory accompanied the faith." 

"At this time there began to be much talk about a 
voyage of exploration to that country which Leif had dis- 
covered." The leader of the expedition was Thorstien 
Ericson, Leif's brother. He sailed with twenty men, and 


Owing to the sea-roving propensities and the great desire to pillage other 
lands, ship-building among the Norsemen was regarded as an honorable handi- 
craft, and a great amount of time and thought was given to the subject. Some 
of the results must be regarded as extraordinary. These vessels had a good 
bow, a clean run aft, and the midship section was like a duck's breast, ars were 
used as well as sails. In the construction of these ancient vessels the rudder 
was placed aft, over the starboard side, and not in a line with the keel, and thus 
did not intefere with the dragon's tail. In the time of Erling Shakke, about 
Iioo, two benches of rowers were introduced. The vessels were built a little 
higher aft than amidships, in order to allow the man at the helm to see well for- 
ward. In a sea fight the sterns of the ships were lashed together, so that no 
ship could be attacked singly, in consequence of which the fighting was hottest 
forward of the bows. The sides and rigging were decorated with shields. The 
sail used was square, made of woolen cloth, and often striped with broad rows 
of color. The mast was stepped in the best place for it, and as far forward as 
would admit of the sail doing its work. 


took little cargo except their weapons and provisions. 
This voyage apparently came to naught, as the Saga says 
that "they were long tossed about upon the ocean and 
could not lay the course they wished. They came in sight 
of Iceland and likewise saw birds from the Irish coast. 
Their ship was, in sooth, driven hither and thither over the 
sea." In the autumn they turned back, worn out by toil 
and exposure, and exhausted by their labor, and arrived at 
Ericsfirth at the beginning of winter. 

The following year there began again to be much talk 
to the effect that Wineland, the good country to the south, 
should be explored. And so it came to pass that Leif, the 
son of Eric, visited Biarni Herinlfsson and bought a ship 
of him and collected a crew of thirty-five men. He invited 
his father, Eric, to become the leader of the expedition, 
but Eric declined, saying that he was well-stricken with 
years, and less able to endure the exposure of sea life. 
They put the ship in order and sailed southward. The 
first land sighted was bare of grass, and great ice moun- 
tains lay inland back from the sea. They returned to the 
ship, put out to sea, and found a second land. This was a 
level, wooded land, with broad stretches of white sand 
along the shore. "Then," said Leif, "this land shall have 
a name after its nature, and we will call it 'Markland.'" 
They returned to the ship and sailed away upon the main 
with northeast winds for seven "doegrs" (a doegr is twelve 
hours) before they sighted land. They sailed toward this 
land and came to an island that lay to the northward off 
the land, then they went ashore. "They went aboard their 
ship and sailed again for a long time, and until they came 
to a river which flowed from the land into a lake and so 
into the sea. There were great bars at the mouth of the 
river so that it could only be entered at the height of flood 
tide. Leif and his men sailed into the mouth of the river 
and called it then 'Hop' (a small, land-locked bay). They 
found self-sown wheat fields (wild rice) on the land there 
wherever there were hollows, and wherever there was hilly 


ground there were vines. They dug pits on the shore 
where the tide rose highest, and when the tide fell there 
were halibut in the pits. There was no lack of salmon 
there, either in the river or in the lake, and larger salmon 
than they had ever seen before. There were great num- 
bers of wild animals in the woods." 

"The country thereabouts seemed to be possessed of 
such good qualities that cattle would need little or no fodder 
there during the winters. The days and nights were of 
much more equal length than in Greenland or Iceland. 
One morning, when they looked about, they saw a large 
number of men in skin canoes. The men rowed toward 
them and went upon the land, marvelling at those whom 
they saw before them. They were swarthy, ill-looking 
and the hair of their heads was ugly. They had great 
eyes and were broad of cheek. They tarried for a while, 
looking curiously at the people they saw before them, and 
then rowed away to the southward around the point." 

Note how accurately this description accords with the 
conditions at the mouth of the Pascataqua River, Ports- 
mouth Harbor, and Great Bay, with the exception of the 
sand bars, that might have existed goo years ago, and 
also the fact that there is no other locality on the New 
England or Provincial Coast that so nearly accords with 
this record, also that the time record of the voyage might 
in fair weather bring them to about this place. 

When they had completed a house, Leif said to his 
companions: "I propose to divide our company into two 
groups, and to set out about an exploration of the land; one- 
half of our party shall remain at the house, while the other 
shall investigate the land." 

This they did for a time. Leif himself by turns joined 
the exploring party or remained behind at the house. Leif 
was a large, powerful man and of most imposing bearing, 
a man of sagacity and a very just man in all things. 

"He was a Viking bold, 
His deeds were manifold." 


The Saga continues to record their various exploring 
expeditions during the summer, and until autumn, when 
Leif said to his shipmates: "We will now divide our labors, 
and each day will either gather grapes or fell trees, so as to 
obtain a cargo of these for the ship." 

They did so and it is said that their after boat was 
filled with grapes. A cargo of logs sufficient for the ship 
was cut and when all was ready they sailed away. From 
its products Leif gave the land a name and called it Wine- 
land. Their return was uneventful, except that they res- 
cued a crew of fifteen men from a sinking vessel. 

They arrived safely at Ericsfirth and discharged their 
cargo. That winter, Eric the Red, Leif s father, died. 
There was much talk about Lief's Wineland journey, and 
his brother Thorvald held that the country had not been 
sufficiently explored. 

Thereupon Leif said to Thorvald: "If it be thy will, 
brother, thou mayest go to Wineland with my ship," and 
so it was done. 

Thorvald, with the advice of his brother Leif, pre- 
pared to make this voyage with thirty men. "They put 
their ship in order and sailed out to sea, and there is no 
account of their voyage before their arrival at Leif's booths 
in Vinland. They laid up their ship there and remained 
quiet all winter, supplying themselves with food by fishing. 
In the spring, A. D. 1003, Thorvald directed that after the 
ship was put in order a party should take the after boat 
and proceed along the western coast, and explore it during 
the summer. They found it a fair, well-wooded country, 
the distance small between the forest and the sea, and 
there were white, sands as well as islands and shallows. 
They found no trace of human handiwork, except that on 
one of the westerly islands they found a wooden building, 
apparently built for the shelter of grain. The following 
summer Thorvald with his ship set out to explore the 
coast. They were met by a high wind, off a certain 
promontory (probably Cape Ann) and were driven ashore 


there and damaged the keel of their ships, and were com- 
pelled to remain there for a long time and repair their 

"Then they sailed away to the eastward off the land 
and into the mouth of an adjoining firth and to a headland 
(Great Boar's Head), which projected into the sea there, 
and which was covered with woods." 

They found an anchorage for their ship, and put out 
their gangway to the land, and Thorvald and all of his 
company went ashore. "It is a fair region here," said he, 
"and here I should like to make my home." They returned 
to the ship and discovered on the sands, in beyond the 
headland, three mounds. They went up to them and saw 
that they were three skin canoes with three men under 
each. They thereupon divided their party and succeeded 
in seizing all of the men but one, who escaped with his 
canoe. They killed the eight men and then ascended the 
headland again and looked about them and discovered cer- 
tain hillocks which they concluded must be habitations. 
They were then so overpowered with sleep that they could 
not keep awake, and they all fell into a slumber from which 
they were awakened by a cry, seemingly above them, and 
the words of the cry were these: "Awake, Thorvald, thou 
and all of thy company, if thou wouldst save thy life, and 
board thy ship with all thy men, and sail with all speed 
from the land." (Note. — This warning probably arose 
from the fearful dreams of guilty men.) 

A countless number of skin canoes then advanced 
from the inner part of the firth (the mouth of Hampton 
River), whereupon Thorvald exclaimed: "We must put our 
war boards on both sides of the ships and defend ourselves 
to the best of our ability, but offer little attack." This 
they did and the Screllings (Screllings, the Norse name 
given the aborigines), after they had shot at them for a 
while, fled, each as best he could. Thorvald then inquired 
of his men whether they had been wounded and, finding 
no one hurt, he said: 

Drawn by Gordon Urown 




Drawn for the Granite State Magazine by Arthur \V. Dudley 



"I have been wounded in my arm pit. An arrow flew 
in between the gunwale and the shield below my arm. 
Here is the shaft. And it will bring me to my end. I 
counsel you now to retrace your way with the utmost 
speed. But me ye shall convey to that headland which 
seemed to me to offer so pleasant a dwelling place; thus it 
may be fulfilled that the truth sprang to my lips when I 
expressed the wish to abide there for a time. Ye shall 
bury me there and place a cross at my head and another at 
my feet, and call it Crossness forever after." 

Thorvald died and they followed out his instructions. 
Then they took their departure and rejoined their com- 
panions at Vinland. They remained there during the win- 
ter and gathered grapes and lumber, and in the following 
spring they returned to Greenland. 

The following season, Thornstein Ericson, the other 
son of Eric, organized an expedition to go to Vinland, after 
the body of his brother Thorvald. But the Saga records 
that "they were driven hither and thither over the sea all 
summer, and lost their reckoning so that at the end of the 
first week of winter they made land at Lysanrth in western 
Greenland." There are further records of Norse voyages, 
but none of any further attempts to recover the body of 
Thorvald Ericson. 

This is the story from the Icelandic Sagas of the pre- 
Columbian discovery of America by the Norsemen. Now 
where is this locality? "This river which flowed from the 
land into a lake, and so into the sea." where Leif estab- 
lished his settlement, must be the Pascataqua, and old 
"Strawberry Bank" can not only justly claim to be the first 
English settlement in New Hampshire, but the first Euro- 
pean in America. Not far away is the "headland well 
covered with woods," and the grave of Thorvald marked 
with crosses. There are several localities on New England 
shores wVere alleged traces of the Norse voyages are in 
existence. One is the (so called) "Northmen's written 
Rock," at West Newbury, Mass. Tracings on a stone tab- 


let at Beverly, Mass., and some other more or less legible 
inscriptions and marks along the Massachusetts and Rhode 
Island shores are ascribed to them. The late Hon. Charles 
M. Lamprey of Hampton, N. H., a man of extraordinary 
discernment and a close student of history, in 1902, pub- 
lished in the Exeter News Letter an article on this subject 
from which the following extracts are taken: 

"Hampton has a stronger claim than any other locality, 
and Great Boar's Head must be the 'Headland' and 'well 
covered with woods' centuries ago. Boar's Head was then 
a much longer point of land and has been wearing away 
constantly for a long time. There are rocks extending out 
southeasterly for more than a quarter of a mile, which are 
easily seen under water and which are a continuation of 
the rocks leading from the point, so that it is undoubtedly 
a fact that the bluff, generations before the settlement of 
the town in 1638, was more than a half mile in length from 
the westerly side, where its rising begins, to the easterly 
point. It is the extension into the sea that makes the bay 
on the south side, called the South Cove, and the one on the 
north called the North Cove. But where are the woods that 
covered the land? Tradition, handed down through seven 
generations of the writer's ancestors, and to them through 
generations of Indians, says that Boar's Head and all of 
the upland, running westerly a mile or more to Eastman's 
Point and southwesterly to the Oliver Nudd farm, was cov- 
ered with woods. There is still a deed taking in a part of 
the Nudd Farm and written nearly 200 years ago, which 
calls the land the 'Nutt trees.' So there is no doubt but 
that Boar's Head was covered with woods, making it 'the 
wooded point with its bays,' and 'the distance small 
between the forest and the sea' and the white sand." 

"Now there is no other landing place, as described by 
the Norsemen in their voyages to Vinland, which answers 
this description as well. But this is not all, for we have 
the crosses cut on the stone long before the settlement of 
the town by white men, — crosses not made by Indians but 


by some one who believed in the Christian religion. In a 
certain field, on the north side of the main road leading 
from Great Boar's Head to Hampton Village, is this rock 
on which are cut three crosses designating the grave where 
was buried Thorvald Ericson in 1004." 

That field, with others adjoining, came into the 
possession of Judge Lamprey's maternal ancestors over 
230 years ago, and that part of the field that contains the 
rock has been under tillage for over 150 years. But the 
rock with its crosses was not known until within the last 
twenty years. It is a large and very hard granite rock, 
bedded in the earth, its face just above the top of the 
ground, with three crosses cut thereon. These marks are 
much deeper than the glacial strata or any other natural 
marks that are found on our ledges. They are well-defined 
crosses. The' stone is not a ledge or a rounded boulder, 
but was evidently placed there by design. And the fact 
that it had been there for centuries before anything was 
known in this locality of the Norsemen or their voyages, 
precludes any supposition that it is a fake, put up to fit the 
description. It has been visited and examined by thou- 
sands, including the most distinguished archaeologists of 
this country and Europe, and none of those who are the 
best qualified to judge doubt its authenticity. It seems 
strange that the state or the nation does not take some 
action to protect and preserve this ancient monument, 
which for nine hundred years has marked the grave of the 
first European buried on the North American continent. 
If these lines serve to awaken public interest sufficient to 
produce such a result, they will a thousand times repay the 
writer for his efforts. 

Cfje Parson's ftoU=Cali 

By George Waldo Browne 

Ol' Parson Graves hed'r most effective way o' provin' what he'd shown, 
An' he'd nail his lengthy argyments down with'r hammer o' his own. 
There wuz somethin' startlin' in th' way he'd tear th' tes'iment in two, 
An' pile it leaf on leaf to show jess what we ought an' oughtn't do; 
An' w'en he'd show all erlong th' way o' vice th' pitfalls, one by one, 
He'd call on th' imaginary sinner jess to show what he had done. 

I s'all alwus remember th' Sunday mornin' w'en th' win' an' rain 

Were peltin' gin th' winders an' er raisin' perticular Cain 

With th' shutters, how he stood up an' fired at th' citadel o' sin. 

P'raps th'gale without hed somethin' to do with th' storm o' words within, 

For he assailed th' walls o' Avarice with more than common zeal, 

An' gropin' in ways none too light he made each one on us feel 

As if we were th' ones on trial; an' to clinch his argyment 

He shouted, "Stand up, ye sinner, who hes broken this commandment!" 

I tell you there was some spasmodic movin' jess to keep still! 
An' more'n one wuz all a-tremble lest he sh'u'd rise ag'in his will, 
Ontil th' parson, sort o' gittin' on a new an' better holt, 
Turned his artillery on Intemperance, an' like a thunder bolt 
He stormed the dark redoubts of rum. Th' way he showed up drunken- 
Th' blighted hopes, th' blasted homes, th' broken heart's distress, 
All heaped on th' drunkard's head, wuz sumthin' frightful to behold, 
While we seemed to hear th' wife's an' children's cries o' agony untold; 
An* w'en he'd gone twice o'er th' catalogue, he cried, to nail it well, 
"Stand up, ye drunkard, ye who barter Heaven for th' beverage o' hell!" 

Th' things most unexpected are not ginerally th' ones we want, 
While 'em we're lookin' for are mos' alwus in some other haunt; 
An, scurcely hed th' parson stopped to mop his perspirin' brow, 
W'en from th' fourth seat in th' middle aisle riz up Squire Amos Trow, 
Him es all know'd to be th' hardest drinker found on Beetle Hill, 
O' whom it hed been spitefully said he'd drunk rum 'nough from Cald- 
well's still 
To float th' 'Merican navy! An' a-shakin' es if with th' palsy he 
Said in a maudlin tone, "Here (hie!) I am, parson, w-what d'ye want o' me?" 


sutton's forest sachems 61 

IV wheels o' time mi^ht hev slipped a cog for all any o' us know'd, 

An' for once in his life I'm sure th' parson wuz completely throw'd! 

He hawk'd and hemm'd an' hack'd, his face th' color o' a big blood beet^ 

But purty soon th' squire a-losin' his balance fell inter his seat. 

An' then th' parson sort o' braced up, an' firin' right and left ag'in 

He hit th' devil plumb in th' eye an' whack 'd him under the chin! 

He told us o' things thet are an' ain't an' things we cannot see, 

An' most o' all he shot at him es isn't what he purtends to be, 

To end his argyment, forgettin' how once he'd been left in th' lurch, 

An' cry, "Stand up, ye hypocrite, ye knave, ye Judas o' th' church!" 

Somehow we felt thet sumthin cur'us was on hand to happen then, 

An' while we sot a-gapin', lo! the squire viz to his feet ag'en, 

To blurt out, his tremblin' finger p'intin' toward the deacon's pew: 

''Why don't you stan' up 's I did, Deacon Jones, w'en th' parson calls 

There are times w'en sober min's will yield to mirth-provoking fears, 
An' th' parson's mumbled benediction fell that day on keerless ears. 

button's! iforest ^arfjems 

By Charles Eaton 

/^^HE lofty and magnificent pines on both sides of 
^L-/ t ^ ie ^ arner anc * North Sutton road — about a half 
mile east of North Sutton and quite near the 
road — are the property of Mrs. Amanda Davis of Sutton. 
The fact that the lumberman's money never has empted 
the owner to part with them shows that she holds them in 
high and, perhaps, reverential and tender consideration. 
This consideration, be it of either character, is felt for 
these trees by Sutton people and. by the people of several 
other towns to whom this road is a frequent thoroughfare; 
and it is shared, too, by the innumerable city ummer 
boarders in Sutton and neighboring towns. 

The age of these trees is great. Only when the wood- 
man's saw has disclosed the circles marking their annual 

62 sutton's forest sachems 

accretions can their age be known. Perhaps it would be 
imposing on credulity for imagination to say that they were 
slender saplings, drawing nitrogen from the air when 
Franklin was (1752) drawing lightning from the clouds. 
But the conjecture is ventured that young partridges were 
hiding in their branches when General Stark declared that 
"the American flag floats over Bennington to-night, or 
Molly Stark sleeps a widow." Tremblingly they have heard 
the merciless ax — first when Sutton was called Perrystown 
— narrowing the limits of the forest. Perhaps their trunks 
were not large enough for good square timber when Sut- 
ton's streams first turned the cumbersome overshot wheel 
of a sawmill. But when young Daniel Webster quit try- 
ing to mow in his father's Franklin meadow with his badly 
hung scythe and hung it on the limb of a tree, in sportive 
response to his father's suggestion to "hang it to suit," 
these trees were large enough to hold great, snarling wild- 
cats. Their green limbs were the bridal chambers of the 
birds when the infant Horace Greeley nestled in his 
mother's arms in Amherst. When General Lafayette held 
young Mason W. Tappan on his knee in the Raymond 
Tavern at Bradford Corner, these trees were entering their 
prime; and when the New London Academy was incorpo- 
rated their bodies were large enough to frame a college hall 
as large as that of Dartmouth which was burnt not long 
ago. When black Tony Clark, with his matchless violin, 
gave a new joy to the dancers before the blazing great 
fireplaces in Warner and Sutton, the large limbs of these 
trees were the refuge of big raccoons pursued by hunting 
dogs. When Warner's unique and hilarious romancer, 
Isaac Hunt, drove "the fastest horse in seven states" from 
Warner village to North Sutton "in just an hour and 
sixty-five minutes," a drowsy owl on the biggest pine 
blinked and woke up and hooted a salute as he passed by. 
(For the sake of the peace of the daring driver's ashes, 
this fable should not be discredited.) The balsamic exud- 
ations of these pines lent their essence to all the June 

sutton's forest sachems 63 

zephyrs of the nineteenth century. Excepting the singing 
brooks, that have leaped down the hills unnumbered ages, 
these arboreal sachems are the oldest living objects in 
Sutton of such magnificent form. 

The altitude of these pines is colossal, The atmos- 
pheric temperature at their base is, no doubt, several 
degrees different from that at their summits; for the latter 
tower up to the realm of astronomy. Wonderful as these 
trees are, nevertheless, the little sunbeams made them out 
of rain drops, atoms of forest mold and invisible parts of 
the air. What a remarkable force that must be that brings 
nutrition from the fibers of the far-extended roots way up 
to the hungry little twigs on their triumphant heads! How 
indelible the green of their branches — fadeless through so 
many, many winters! 

Great and mighty as these sachems are, they are help- 
less and defenseless against their merciless foes, the ax and 
the portable steam mill. Nevertheless, their majesty and 
their glory plead for their protection. 

Dismal must be the heart and stolid the eyes of the 
man who can approach these trees and not feel a constrain- 
ing impulse to pause and lift his hands and voice and greet 
them as kindred; kindred in breathing the same air, in 
sharing the warmth of the same sun, sharing the light of the 
same stars and the refreshment of the same summer 
showers; kindred in suffering from the same storm and gale 
and in being targets for the lightning. In the calm of a sum- 
mer day, when they are tranquil and serene, what a comfort- 
ing, refreshing benediction they bestow upon him who 
pauses and leans against them or reclines at their feet! 
^nd O how thrilling to be in their presence when the 
fierce gale smites them and sways -them, and makes all 
their lofty branches into a band of harps crying and wail- 
ing in distress! 

Long may the rainbows of the twentieth century arch 
protectingly over them. As long as their glory remains, 
sentiment will seek them as an inspiring shrine; eager ears 


will listen to the pensive strains of their soughing, and 
wondering eyes will admiringly gaze on their towering 
forms; musing retrospection and gay romance will come, 
leading each other under their enchanting shelter, and 
there recite fond reminiscences, fascinating fables and 
glowing rhapsodies. 

^fje <®lb $eto Cnglanb #ome 

By John Howard, M. D. 

With heart surcharged with olden memories dear 
I tread the reminiscent paths of Auld Lang Syne, 
And well inspect each oft remembered line, 
While with each turn some change expectant fear. 
Full well I know each by-way and each path, 
Thy rivers and thy lakes I once more see, 
So small in life from what they seemed to be 
When as a lad, I truant played, the wrath 
Of teacher to incur, or roamed the wood 
The timid hare or partridge to ensnare. 
Now here I stroll absorbing Nature's food 
For tired minds worn by anxious cares. 
Farewell, most cherished spot, my childhood home, 
Amid thy scenes might I forever roam. 

3!tems of interest 

The population of New Hampshire in 17 15 was esti- 
mated to be 9,650. 

In 1750 it was 50,000. Both were merely estimates. 

The population of New England in the first year was 
161,650. In 1750, 430,000. 

<3Hf)e indent Utaces ot America 

By G. P. Thruston 

We feel that we cannot introduce the series of articles upon the 
Indians of New Hampshire, which we purpose to publish, with better 
grace than in reprinting from the Magazine of American History the fol- 
lowing carefully prepared essay. — Editor. 

'HE origin of the ancient inhabitants of America, 
and of their semi-civilization, continues to be one 
of the most interesting problems presented to 
to the archaeologist. It has had many solutions, so called, 
yet none of them satisfactory. It is a mystery anti- 
quarians have been constantly hoping some new discovery 
would unravel, but such discoveries and investigations as 
are made, add comparatively little light. Indeed, the more 
the question is examined the more complicated it becomes, 
even in the face of most patient industry and the ablest 
scientific research. Having had occasion recently to exam- 
ine the subject with care, it may be of interest to present 
some conclusions reached by the writer, as showing the 
present status of the investigation. 

On the very threshold, I believe it may be safely stated, 
that not One pre-Columbian or prehistoric coin, implement, 
inscription, valued relic, or object of art, or architecture, 
or industry has been found on this continent, north or 
south, of foreign or old world origin — directly or indirectly 
traceable. On his second return to America, Columbus 
found the fragment of a wrecked ship on one of the islands 
of the West Indies; such fragments have also been carried 
by the Pacific currents to our northwest coast; but these 
can hardly be called exceptions to the general spirit of the 
foregoing statement. Considering the many discoveries 
and alleged discoveries in many directions, over this vast 



territory, and considering also the thirty centuries and 
more of civilization, extended commercial relations and 
widely distributed population existing on the other conti- 
nents, this broad statement of the fact seems a surprise. 
In the absence of object-discoveries directly traceable to a 
foreign origin, our earlier archaeologists confidently expected 
the solution of this problem would be found in the depart- 
ment of language relations, or ethnology. 

Language is generally a safe guide to race affinities; 
but here, after more than a century of research, the diffi- 
culties are found to be practically insuperable. In this 
department, we have also to record the fact that no written 
language or decipherable system of inscriptions or hiero- 
glyphics of Native American origin have been found. 
The hieroglyphics, or signs and symbols, of the ancient 
Maya Nation of Yucatan, perhaps merit the name of writ- 
ings, but the key to their interpretation has thus far defied 
all learning and ingenuity. It must be remembered that 
the "Maya Chronicles," or manuscripts, as published by the 
late Dr. Brinton and others, are not the writings of the 
ancient Mayas, but the work of Spanish priests, subsequent 
to the conquest of Cortez. These clerical fanatics 
destroyed a vast number of valuable ancient records, as 
devilish devices of superstition, but partly atoned for the 
crime by inventing a system of written letters or signs to 
interpret and preserve the then existing language of the 
Mayas, and these are the so-called chronicles of the Mayas. 
They are of great archaeological interest, but like the 
architectural remains of this most civilized of the native 
races, they throw little light upon the question of its 

Ancient Mexican civilization did not reach a standard 
high enough to supply a written language. When Cortez 
and his Spanish adventurers appeared upon the coast of 
Mexico, in 1520, Montezuma learned of his coming only 
through messengers bearing pictures of strange ships in 
the sea. The painstaking Spanish writers of Aztec and 


Toltec history in Mexico gathered their traditions and 
facts from ancient figure paintings and illustrations pre- 
served by the native Mexicans. These were their only 
substitute for a written history. Ancient Peru, with all 
its arts and industries, appears to have had no written lan- 
guage. Two or three rudely sculptured or inscribed tablets 
have been found among the remains of the mound builders 
oi the Mississippi Valley, but they have no language sig- 
nificance, and occasional quasi-writings of the hunting 
races of Indians can hardly be said to reach the dignity of 
hieroglyphics. They are but crude pictures or signs, in 
the main, without special meaning. 

Thus we find no established basis in Ancient America 
or among its native races, upon which to trace language 
relationships with the old world. If we turn to the inves- 
tigation of the spoken languages of the aboriginal races 
(in which department Major Powell, Dall, and others, have 
done much faithful work), we find difficulties and complica- 
tions innumerable. Indeed, it is already fairly demon- 
strated that language relations with ancient foreign nations 
cannot be established or even traced. There are no con- 
necting links. No test of kinship stands, whether we seek 
it on the Asiatic or European side. Major Powell says, 
for instance, that North America furnishes not less than 
seventy-five stocks of language, and South America as many 
more. These stocks spread into innumerable languages 
and dialects, scarcely traceable to a common origin. H. H. 
Bancroft, in his ''Native Races of the Pacific States," has 
classified some six hundred of these languages and dialects, 
but the whole number has been estimated at about thirteen 
hundred. In his report of the Colorado Exploring Expe- 
dition, Lieutenant Ives says: "The inhabitants of the 
different Pueblo villages within ten miles of each other 
speak three different languages." 

Notwithstanding the proximity of Alaska and Asia, 
the efforts of ethnologists to trace affinities in language 
in that direction have wholly failed. The northwest point 


of Alaska is about as far from San Francisco as the latter 
is from New York, a fact one scarcely realizes without hav- 
ing attention called to it. Many tribes of many languages 
occupied, or occupy, this vast territory. Their dialects, it is 
stated, cannot be even traced to a common stock. They 
cannot be shown to be related to the languages of the 
Indians of the interior. The inhabitants of the Aleutian 
Islands of the northwest (which constitute almost an island 
bridge between the two continents) have no written lan- 
guage, and their spoken language is wholly unlike that 
of their Asiatic neighbors, as it is also unlike that of 
their Esquimau neighbors in Alaska. — thus negativing all 
efforts to establish language relations with the ancient 
inhabitants of Asia through that source. To sum up the 
results of investigation in this branch of the subject, it 
may be stated that the best authorities unite in regarding 
the languages of our aboriginal races as radically distin- 
guished and different from those of other continents, 
ancient or modern, and as manifestly original and primi- 
tive. We will not enter into the details of physical char- 
acteristics and craniology. Ethnologists have faithfully 
prosecuted their researches in this wide field of investiga- 
tion, and volumes have been written upon it without any 
definite or satisfactory results bearing on this question. 
Beyond the fact that some of the inhabitants of our 
extreme northwest coast have features and facial expres- 
sions resembling those of their Asiatic neighbors, no for- 
eign relationships or affinities seem to have been established 
in this department. 

As may be presumed from the foregoing recital, the 
prehistoric remains of art and industry in America give no 
evidence of a foreign origin. On the contrary they verify 
all other proof of their originality. When Columbus dis- 
covered the first natives of the western world, he called 
them "Indians," thinking he had reached the confines of 
Eastern India. Their designation has not been changed. 
Their art and architecture were apparently Indian in some 


of their characteristics, but this resemblance was due to 
the fact that they were in the main primitive and barbaric. 
The architectural remains of Central America, so fully 
described by Stevens, Charney, and others, belong to no 
other known type. We look in vain for any features that 
connect them with the nations of the ancient world — 
Egypt, Assyria, Phoenicia, Greece, or China. The forms 
of pottery exhumed from the mounds and ancient graves 
of the Mississippi Valley may be traced through Tennessee, 
Missouri, Arkansas, Arizona, Mexico, Central America and 
Peru. They can be readily identified. They point to a 
common origin. 

In the small collection belonging to the writer, specie 
mens of the pottery of the Indians and mound builders 
seem to be but primitive forms of the more carefully and 
handsomely made specimens obtained from ancient remains 
in Peru and Central America, and an examination of the 
museums of Europe will readily satisfy the antiquarian 
that these forms bear no trace of relationship to the antique 
types found in Egypt or elsewhere in the old world — 
excepting in occasional accidental features. Another ele- 
ment in this ancient American problem that renders it 
difficult of solution is the fact that all departments of 
investigation force the conclusion that this continent was 
inhabited at a very remote period. 

Some noted scientists have assigned to America an 
early place in the world's geologic history, and man's occu- 
pation appears to have been relatively remote. The Span- 
iards had conquered Mexico many years before they even 
discovered the ruins, Palenque and Uxinal, in the forests of 
Central America; and their explorers then described them 
as very ancient ruins. Trees had attained their full growth 
and fallen into decay on the site of these ancient cities, as 
well as upon the great earth works of the mound builders. 
Mexican Aztec and Toltec history and tradition, as handed 
down in their pictures and symbol-chronicles in a reason- 
ably consistent chronology, may be traced back through 


many centuries, estimated at from twelve to fifteen hundred 
years. It would seem also that a time no less than this 
might be required for the migration and distribution of the 
innumerable tribes over this broad continent, north and 
south, and for their development in some sections from 
primitive habits into comparative civilization. 

Another fact of interest may be stated as bearing upon 
this question. The use of iron was generally known to the 
nations of antiquity before the historic period. In the 
eighth generation after Adam (as we are told in the Scrip- 
tures), Tubal Cain was "an instructor" in "a knowledge of 
brass and iron." Job tells us of it. It was used in con- 
structing Solomon's Temple. It was found in abundance 
by Layard in the palace of Nimrod, in excavating the ruins 
of Nineveh. It was known in Western Europe more than 
2,500 years ago, and at an early period in China; yet it 
seems that 710 prehistoric implement or article of iron, or 
any evidence of manufactured iron has been found in 
America, excepting such rude implements or ornaments as 
were made from the native and unmelted ore. It would 
seem as if almost any communication with the ancient, 
outer world, would have led to a knowledge of iron, but it 
was probably never known in ancient America. Once 
known, it would doubtless never have been forgotten. Its 
uses are too manifest and the native ore too widely distrib- 
uted. We will not consider the evidence of man's exist- 
ence on this continent, as in Europe, as a contemporary 
of the mammoth and other extinct animals. The proof on 
this point seems well-nigh conclusive, and is now generally 
accepted by the best authorities. This fact, if admitted, 
throws difficulties in the way of the solution of this ques- 
tion practically insurmountable. 

The well-delineated face and figure of the negro on the 
tomb of Seti Menephistha, at Thebes (19th dynasty of 
Egypt B. C. 1 500), as illustrated by a number of standard 
historians, represent the present negro type in Africa with 
exactness. The original type does not seem to have 


changed in thirty-three centuries. Perhaps the native 
American may have been as long on this continent. Sir 
John Lubbock places about this limit upon the time of its 
first settlement. The ships of Phoenicia and perhaps of 
Troy, and later of Rome, Alexandria and Carthage, carried 
their commerce to many distant lands, yet no trace of their 
civilization, of their language or arts, appears to have 
reached this isolated Western Continent. The adventur- 
ous Norsemen of Northern Europe reached Greenland, 
and perhaps Labrador or Nova Scotia, and possibly a point 
further south, but they left no impress or trace behind 
them, excepting in the obscure records of their own coun- 
try. From this brief summary it will be seen that the 
problem of "ancient America" is as far from solution as 
ever. It may be stated that archaeologists who have no 
special or favorite theory to defend are generally accepting 
the following conclusions: 

First. That America was first settled by a primitive 
people or race, at a period too remote for calculation as to 
time, and probably before the languages and other char- 
acteristics of the old-world nations from which they sprung 
had assumed definite form, and before these nations had 
acquired their present geographical limits. 

Second. That no theory of their origin has been, or 
probably can be established, that is entirely satisfactory to 
investigators or that has been accepted as conclusive. 

Third. That the theory most generally accepted 
points to an Asiatic, Mongol or Polynesian origin; a theory 
supported by the nearness of the two continents and 
by some similarities in appearance and characteristics, and 
by the steady flow of ocean currents from the coast of 
Asia eastward. 

Fourth. The theory of a European or African origin, 
through a "Lost Atlantis" or change or depression in the 
earth's surface between Africa and the Caribbean Islands 
on the west, is second in popularity and as to the number 
of its advocates. 



The fact, however, that it requires the aid of an earth- 
quake of vast dimensions to establish it, will probably con- 
tinue to stand in the way of its general acceptance. Other 
theories as to the first settlement of America it will not be 
necessary to mention here. They appear to have no sub- 
stantial basis. 


M3k !^: ; %1 i 

SJnbtan Crabtttons anb JfolMore 


The Vanished Races 
By A Staff Contributor 

"Like leaves on trees the race of man is found; 
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; 
Another race the following spring supplies; 
They fall successive and successive rise; 
So generations in their course decay; 
So flourish these when those are passed away," 


CCORDING to the traditions of the Amerinds, two 
great families of their people, the Lenni Lenape, 
which term meant the "original people," and the 
Mengwe or JIaqua came from the extreme west to settle in 
the fertile valley of the Mississippi, "The Father of 
Waters." The first-named tribe was soon met in deadly 
fight by the Alligeioi or Allegheny warriors, who made 
such a resistance that they formed an alliance with the 
Mengwe to destroy their common enemies. Under the 
conditions of this league the Mengwes took the country 
bordering on the great lakes, reaching from Erie to Cham- 
plain, and northward to the highlands of the Ottawa and 
the valley of the St. Lawrence. In their onward march 
the Mengwes overcame or united with them in their con- 
quests, the Oneidas, Onodagas, Cayugas, and Seneca, 
later on accepting as an ally the Tuscaroas, who had come 
up from southland to unite with them. At first known as 
"The Five Nations," this league became designated as 
"The Six Nations," or in an ethological sense as the 
Iroquois. If crude in its form, and the different factions 
forming the league were frequently at war with each other, 
it was the first semblance of government in this country, 
unless it were some race whose civilization has been buried 
under the ruins of centuries. They were undoubtedly the 
roost crafty, daring and intelligent of the North Amer- 



ican races. Either separately or together they were the 
terror of all other families of Amerinds. The five tribes 
of this clan were stationed in palisaded villages surrounded 
by great fields of cultivated crops and orchards, extending 
in a line from the south and east of Erie and Ontario 
lakes, from which peculiar situation came their name "The 
People of the Long House." They have been estimated to 
number from 15,000 to 20,000, and at no time to be able to 
muster more than 3,000 warriors. 

Pitted against the Iroquois, though allied by kindred 
ties, were the Hurons, numbering about 16,000. They 
dwelt mainly in large settlements situated in a narrow dis- 
trict comprising a portion of the water-shed of the north- 
west, between the little chain of lakes running south from 
Georgian Bay nearly down to lake Ontario, and westward 
to the lake bearing their name. The Hurons were what 
might be termed an agricultural people, though they made 
periodical hunting and fishing trips. They lived in bark 
cabins, arranged in groups and surrounded by high pali- 
sades, built to protect themselves from their enemies. 
Their crops were corn, beans, pumpkins and tobacco. 
They were sharp traders, and better fighters than the east- 
ern tribes I am soon to mention, but the Iroquois gradually 
drove them northward and eastward, down the valley of 
the St. Lawrence, or "Great River of Canada." Upon the 
site of Montreal they founded their ancient capital, Hoch- 
elega, to be eventually driven from this by their long-time 

Separated from the Hurons by a wide stretch of 
unbroken forest on the southwest were the Petuns, Tion- 
atates, or "Tobacco Nation," noted for their large fields of 
this plant,' which they ever found in ready demand from 
other less thrifty tribes. 

To the west of Lake Ontario, dwelling on both sides 
of the gorge of Niagara, lived a more peaceful tribe than 
any of these, who on account of their ability to remain on 
friendly terms with the warlike factions were known as 
"The Neutral Nation." 


The French first came in contact with the Hurons, 
who, as early as Champlain, were induced to become their 
allies. Even that astute explorer and civilizer of the Can- 
adian wilds believed their friendship of greater moment to 
his cause than any other, and upon the shore of the lake 
named in his honor, opened hostilities with the Mengwes, 
then known as the Mohawks, the leading as well as the 
oldest of the Five Nations. This attack awakened a deadly 
enmity, which did not expire with one generation but 
existed for a hundred years, a heritage of hatred. It was 
broken only by the iron heel of Frontenac, and then not 
until new France had become so weakened as to fall an 
easy victim to her old-time white enemy, the English. 

In the meantime the Iroquois had left their imprints 
upon every group of Amerinds from the region of the 
Alleghany, the shores of the great lakes, the rock of 
Quebec to the valleys of the Merrimack and the Saco 
rivers. Thus they figure conspicuously in the legends and 
traditions of the red men of the Granite State. 

It does not come within the province of our purpose 
to more than mention the other great clans of Amerinds 
occupying this country before the coming of the white 
man, who was to destroy that civilization already becoming 
apparent, under the slow process of evolution, and rear 
upon its ruins a form which itself had merged from the 
crushing weight of barbarism. There were the Cherokees, 
Chickasaics, Choctaics, Creeks and Seminoles, all natives 
of a warmer clime, and therefore of a milder temperament, 
it of a less energetic disposition. They, estimated to num- 
ber about 50,000, fell in more easily with the agricultural pur- 
suits of their conquerors, though rapidly fading away like 
the leaves of a forest. Beyond the Mississippi, with the 
Rocky Mountains as their bounds on the west, dwelt the 
fourth of the four great families, the Dacotas or Sioux, the 
most bitter haters of the white missionaries, hunters, 
traders, home-builders, and nowhere is to be found a 
stronger, more heroic or pathetic narrative of colonization 
and civilization. 


The Lenni Lenape, or Delawares, chose the country 
to the south of that taken by their ally, a territory border- 
ing on the rivers Potomac, Delaware, Susquehanna and 
Mohawk, the latter called by them Mahicannituck, from 
whence came a new name for them, Mohican, pronounced 
by the English Mohegan. Pushing gradually eastward, 
they eventually spread over New England, forming in 
reality the most numerous and widely extended of all the 
native confederations, known to the English under the 
general term of Algonkin. Taken singly and together, 
these branches of red men occupy a larger place in our 
early history than all others. This was due largely to the 
fact that they were the first to combat their prospective 
conquerors, and this before the fire and ardor of their 
primitive life had been sapped by contact with civilization- 

These people, according to Heckewelder, were in 
possession of the Atlantic coast from Roanoke to Acadia. 
Their tongue and that of the Hurons embraced the 
language spoken over sixteen hundred leagues of country 
and was understood by all others except the Iroquois. 
It was, too, a more fluent tongue, the Mokaws being desti- 
tute of labials, while that of the Mohegans abounded with 

Whatever may have been the origin of the race inhab- 
iting North America at the time of the arrival of the 
Europeans, and however antiquarians may differ in that 
respect, there is evidence to show that the Amerinds pre- 
sented varying types of humanity. The difficulty to estab- 
lish the boundaries between these tribes has led some to 
-believe they sprang from a common parentage. This con- 
dition is due to the frequent migrations of different tribes, 
to intermarriage and the utter lack of any boundary lines. 

While the term "Mohegan" was in a general sense 
applied to the "original people" of New England, at the 
time of the coming of the whites, they possessed distin- 
guishing attributes in the several sections, so that Gookin 
makes five principal nations: The J°equots, JsTarragansetts, 
PawJcunaykutts, Massachusetts, and Pawtukets. 


The five confederations above named comprised at 
least twenty-six families, described in alphabetical order as 


Abnakis, a name applied to the Indians living between 
the Pascataqua and Penobscot rivers, and divided into four 
principal families. 

Agawams, a small clan living about Ipswich, Mass. 

Annasagunticooks, found upon the Androscoggin. 

Canibas, a numerous tribe living upon the Saghadoc, 
now Kennebec, River. 

3/icmacs, occupying Nova Scotia, sometimes called by 
early writers the Souriquos, or Soiiriquois. 

Mbhega/iSy or Mbhicians, that lived in the country of 
Windham, Conn., and territory lying to the north nearly 
to the state line. They numbered about 3,000, and their 
great chief at one time, was Uncas. The Pequods lived on 
their south, the Woguns and Podunks on their west, Nip- 
muncks on the north, and Narragansetts on the east. (See 
Hubbard's New England, pages 33, 255, 408.) 

Massachusetts occupied Suffolk, Norfolk, the easterly 
part of Middlesex and the northerly part of Essex counties. 
They were numerous at one period, but seem to have suf- 
fered greatly from the plague in 161 7. Their most noted 
chief was Nanepashemet, whose abode was near the 
mouth of the Mystic River. 

Marechites, or Armouchiquois, lived along the river 
St. John. 

Kashuas and Xipnets^ or Nipmuchs, lived within the 
the county of Worcester and about the ponds of Orford 
township. (Hubbard's Indian Wars, page 257.) The Nip- 
mucks were subject to the Mohegans. 

Narragansetts occupied nearly all of what is now the 
state of Massachusetts. At the time of the coming of the 
Pilgrims at Plymouth, they could muster 5,000 fighting 
men, had a population of 20,000, and were superior in num- 



bers and strength to any other tribe in New England, 
except the Pequods. (See Prince, page 46.) 

Naticks lived about what is now Dedham, Mass. 
These were converted and were known as "the praying 
Indians." In 165 1 they organized into a form of govern- 
ment, with rulers over lots of fifties and tens. They sev- 
eral times allied themselves with the English in the eastern 
wars. (Hubbard's New England, pages 652-3.) 

Nausites dwelt to the south of Plymouth. The enmity 
of this tribe was incurred through the kidnapping of seven 
of their numbers by Hunt. (Prince, pages 99-100) 

Nehanticks lived along the east bank of the Connecti- 
cut River, on the site of the town of Lyme. Their famous 
chief was Ninegret, who fought the Wampanoags and the 
Mohawks in the conquest of the Long Island Indians. 
(Holmes' American Annotations, page 27J.) 

Newichaicannocks, on the upper branches of the 

Oponangos, supposed to have lived about Passama- 
quoddy Bay. 

Pequods, claimed the country between the Narragan- 
setts and Nehanticks. Their central station and villages 
along the coast at New London harbor. They outrivalled 
all the other tribes of New England until they were 
destroyed in 1638 by the English. 

Peickenaickutts, or Wampanoags, also numerous and 
.powerful, occupied all the western and southern parts of 
the Plymouth colony. Their sachem lived at Mount Hope. 
Massasoit was the first chief of which the English had 
knowledge. His successors were his sons Alexander and 
the famous Philip, the most noted warrior of his age. 
Massasoit was able to muster 3,000 warriors. 

Pentuckets, or Abernenians, lived along the Merrimack 
River, with their capital at Dracut. This tribe at one time 
contained 3,000 in numbers. 

Pennacooks lived along the Merrimack River between 
the Nashua and the Pennacook rivers, and numbered about 


3,000. Their most noted sachem was Passaconaway. 
This tribe was quite friendly to the English through the 
advice and influence of the chief mentioned, (i Collection 
Massachusetts Historical Society, page 180.) 

Podu?iks, inhabitants of the region now included in 
Hartford, Conn. (Morse's Geography, page 346.) 

Seconnets, situated at Little Compton, above Pocasset 
or Tivertown A noted leader was a woman known as the 
"Squaw Sachem," who was a relative of Philip, and this 
tribe generally allied themselves with the Wampanoags. 
(Prince, page 129. Hubbard's Indian Wars, pages 258-9.) 

SokoJcis, who dwelt along the River Saco and adjacent 

iarratines, inhabitants of the Penobscot, and were 
one of the three Etechemins Tribes. 

WavenocJcs lived about Pemaquid and St. George 
rivers in Maine, between the Kennebec and Penobscot 

Wonguns, who lived east of the Pequods in Connecti- 
cut, where are now the towns of East Chatham and 

Four tongues, or dialects, seem to have been spoken 
by these various families and tribes, as follows: That 
spoken by the Pawkunawkutts and the natives west of 
them, which is supposed to have been the language of the 
Mohegans. Then the tribes between them and the 
Newichawannocks on the Pascataqua, which have been 
called "Abergineans," or Xorthem Indians, could all con- 
verse together, though they could not sound well the 1 and 
r, giving the sound of n instead. The Indians east of the 
Pascataqua, however, sounded these letters easily and 
belonged to a different tribe. These families were also dis- 
tinct from the Micmacs of Nova Scotia. Captain Francis, 
the first captain of the Tarratine tribe on the Penobscot, 
an intelligent Indian, told Williamson, author of the His- 
tory of Maine (Vol. I., page 460): 


"All the tribes between the Saco and the Rivers St. 
John were brothers. The eldest, the Sokokis, lived on the 
Saco; each tribe, going eastward, was the younger, like 
the sons of the same father, excepting those on the Passa- 
maquoddy, the youngest of all. I can understand them all 
when they speak, as like brothers, but when the Micmacs 
or Algonkin or Canada Indians talk, I cannot understand 
what they say." 

These tribes of Maine appeared to be at war with the 
tribes in New Hampshire. For this reason largely the 
chiefs of the latter tribes were encouraged to ally them- 
selves with the English in order to cope more successfully 
with their life-long enemies to the east. 


Four tribes, as previously mentioned, the Nashuas, 
Penacooks (Pentuckets), Newichawannocks, the Squam- 
scots a small inland family at what is now Exeter, N. H., 
formed a sort of confederacy. In 1629-30, the Pentuckets, 
in Massachusetts, were more numerous than the Penacooks, 
The lodgment of the Newichannocks was at Cocheco, now 
Dover. Knolles, or Rowles, was for many years their 
sachem, and his dwelling-place was not far from Ouam- 
peagan Falls, in what is now Berwick, and which was then 
Kittery. All the Indians in that vicinity were under him, 
though he was under Passaconaway. He died about 1670 
not far from the death of the former, and his dying mes- 
sage to his followers was somewhat similar: 

"Being loaded with years, I had expected a visit in my 
infirmities, especially from those who are now tenants on 
the lands of my fathers. Though all these plantations are 
of right my children's; I am forced in this age of evi^ 
humbly to request a few hundred acres of land to be 
marked out for them and recorded, as a public act, in the 
town books; so that when I am gone, they may not be per- 
ishing beggars, in the pleasant places of their birth. For 
I know a great war will shortly break out between the 


white men and the Indians, over the whole country. At 
first the Indians will kill many and prevail; but after three 
years, they will be great sufferers and finally be rooted out 
and destroyed." 

His successor was Blind Will, his son; and that of 
Passaconaway, Wonalancet, his son. 

Historian Potter gives the following tribes as ruled in 
greater or less degree by the Penacooks: Aga warns, Massa- 
chusetts, Wamesits, Nashuas, Souhegans, Namoskeag, 
Winnepesuakees. Besides these the succeeding tribes 
acknowleged fealty to the Penacook though not belonging 
to the confederacy: Wachusets, Winnccowetts, Coosucks, 
Pascataquakes, Pequakuakes, Sacos, Ossipees, Newiche- 
wannocks, Squamscotts, Amariscoggins. 

Northern New Hampshire did not seem to have any 
particular tribe settled within its territory, but it was over- 
run periodically by the Canadian Indians, among which 
predominated the Hurons, judged by the traces they left 
in the traditions handed down from those days. Further 
glimpses of these families, as well as of the others in our 
state, will appear from time to time, in the following tradi- 
tions, which really afford the only accounts we have of the 
vanished races. 

The ruling passions of the aborigine were war and free- 
dom. If in peace he was slothful and indolent, the war- 
whoop transformed him into another being. Like all 
uneducated people he then became a strange compound of 
good and evil. Lescarbet, in his Narrative written in 1609, 
told a truth that later writers have not refuted: 

"If they (the Indians) do not know God, at least they 
do not blaspheme him, as the greater number of Christians 
do. Nor do they understand the art of poisoning, or of 
corrupting chastity by devilish artifice. ' There are no 
poor nor beggars among them. All are rich, because all 
labor and live." 

His stealthy step, that did not stir a stick on the 
ground; his swift vision, that did not fail to detect the 


least commotion of the solitude; the hundred silent signs 
that his white companion could not discern, watching the 
wind and the shadows, the sun and the clouds, the mist 
upon the waters, the damp upon the earth. All these were 
qualities his pale-hued rivals could not imitate. 

A shadow himself, the Amerind believed all alike 
passed to Spirit Land, where they continued the pursuits 
begun here. "It was in truth a Land of Shades, where 
trees, flowers, animals, men, and all things were spirits. 

** By midnight moons, o'er moistening dews, 
In vestments for the chase arrayed, 
The hunter still the deer pursues, 
The hunter and the deer a shade. " 

Like a child, he had a mind remarkably acute in one 
direction, while undeveloped in others. He could grasp 
but one truth, and that without any great abstract reason- 
ing. He understood woodcraft in many of its artifices, 
could build a canoe with skill, make a bow and arrow, 
was singularly adept in constructing his rude tepee, but he 
never learned to build a house, could not even wield an ax 
with any cunning, or acquire any great tact in the arts of 
civilized life. In short, he was not an imitator. 

But he had two virtues: one, a high sense of honor J 
the other, a fortitude the most keen suffering could not 
shake. Expression of pain or pleasure, of sorrow or happi- 
ness was left for weak women to indulge in. But his mani- 
festation of rejoicing over a victory won was followed by 
wild bursts of revelry, or a battle lost was succeeded by 
bitter wailing and lametation. 

The Amerind was a natural story-teller. Seeing, as 
he did, an omen in every shifting shade of the clouds, a 
sign in the changing leaf, a token of beauty or ugliness in 
the different places of the wildwood, and no rock or river, 
lake or mountain, valley or hillside, that did not speak of 
some deed of valor, incident of love or hatred; these stories 
clung to his tongue and were told and retold to each sue- 


ceeding generation, from time immemorial. They were 
further kept alive by a name applied to the spot which 
should always hint of the legend connected with it. Thus 
the "laughing water" of Minnehaha forever reminds the 
beholder of the tragedy of love enacted in the sparkling 

The Indians told their tales of bygone days with 
lowered voice and anxious mien, each myth fraught with 
the fantasy of nature's solitude and each legend bordered 
with a fringe of the silver foam of superstition. "Speak 
softly," warned the dusky boatman to the Jesuit Father 
Albanel, as he plied the paddles of the canoe under the 
frowning point of the mountain, of Mistassini Lake, "or 
the spirit of the peak will be angry with us, send his storm 
gods to outride our canoe, and drown us all." "Close your 
eyes as we pass under yonder rock," said the Ottawa, as 
he and his companions guided their canoe down the river, 
where it made a sharp bend around a sharp angle of rock, 
to the early whites who penetrated that region, "or you 
will see the demon who guards the rock, and to look on 
him is certain death." "Move swiftly past yon island," 
advised the Hurons to Menard, as he was crossing Lake 
Superior, "nor dare to land on its enchanted shore. See! 
it moves; now it is near; now it is far away. Now it van- 
ishes, and we must pass the place before it rises again." 
Above island, Michipicaten. "Pass not after nightfall, 
Tawasendeatha," whispered the Sokokis chieftain, "lest you 
disturb the slumbers of the sleeping dead." In a lighter 
spirit Father Rasle was besought by his Abnaki neophytes 
to listen at nightfall, as they passed a certain pine, for the 
song of the lovers, parted and united by death, as they 
swept past to seek their old trysting place. 

Cfje Nubian punter 

By Eliza Cook 

This poem, given in the school readers of a generation ago, and set 
to music and sung by Henry Russell on his concert tours, is an old-time 
favorite. — Editor. 

Oh, why does the white man follow my path, 

Like the hound on the tiger's track? 
Does the flush on my dark cheek waken his wrath? 

Does he covet the bow at my back? 

He has rivers and seas, where the billows and breeze 

Bear riches for him alone, 
And the sons of the wood never plunge in the flood 

Which the white man calls his own. 

Then why should he come to streams where none 

But the redskin dares to swim? 
And why should he wrong the bold hunter one 

Who never did harm to him? 

The Father above thought fit to give 

To the white man corn and wine, 
There are golden fields where he may live, 

But the forest shades are mine. 

For the eagle and deer have their place of rest, 

The wild horse where to dwell, 
And the spirit that gave to the bird its nest, 

Made a home for me as well. 

Then back to thy home from the red man's track, 

For the hunter's eye grows dim, 
To find that the white man wrongs the one 

Who never did harm to him. 





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VOL. V APRIL-JUNE, 1908 No. 2 


<25rantte J^tate jPaga^ne 

a Ouartrrl? Publication 

[Copyrighted, 1908.J 

Vol. V APRIL-JUNE No. % 


Terms: — Per Annum $1.50 

Single Copy .40 

To Authors. — The editor respectfully solicits contributions relating to state history, biography and legend 
from those who are in possession of any incidents or narrative of local or general interest. Any one not a regular 
writer, and not situated to put his notes into readable form, is requested to send the rough draft and we will under- 
take to put it into manuscript for the printer. Every article received will be carefully read and returned, if found 

Address plainly: Editor Granite State Magazine, 

No. 64 Hanover Street, Manchester, N. H. 

Entered as second-class matter, December 21, 1905, at the post office at Manchester, New Hampshire, under 

the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. 

Printed by The Ruemely Press, <s^|g|figj. 143 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H, 


After the Council. (Poem) David Gray, Esq. 85 

JOHN Lovewell, Sr. (Illustrated) Edward E. Parker 89 

Deposition of John Lovewell, Sr Ezra S. Steams 100 

The Lost Cup of Tea. (Poem) Mrs. Edward Stevens 103 

The Miller. (Illustrated Character Sketch) John Everett Beane 105 

The Miller. (Description — Illustrated) A r estor of the Farms 107 

Reminiscences of a Miller. (Illustrated) John Everett Beane 109 

A New Hampshire Paradise. (Illustrated) Mary C. Butler 112 

The Vermont G rants Orvando D. Clough 11 4 

The Opening of the North Claribel M. Weeks 120 

GypsyinG. (Poem) Charles Henry Chesley 123 

Benjamin T. Newman. (Portrait and Illustrations) 124 

Chocorua on a July Night. (Poem) C. E. Whiton Stone 126 

The Wrestling Match Nestor of the Farms 127 

The Old Pioneer. (Poem) Sam Walter Foss 131 

New Hampshire at Washington. (Four Portraits) A Staff Contributor 133 

New Hampshire at the Chicago Convention. (Portrait).../! Staff Contributor 145 

Wit of Matthew Thornton Gray Fairlee 153 

Historic Hudson. (Illustrated) George Waldo Browne 154 

Is It Worth While? (Poem) Joaquin Miller 170 

The Editor's Window 171 

Cbttortal lookout 

With the July number, The Granite State Magazine will resume 
monthly publication. Our return to a monthly from a quarterly is due 
to the fact that we have obtained the needed assistance in the business 


:partnient, Mr. Leo A. Hackett, a successful advertising solicitor, 
king charge of that part of the work. With the steady growth in 
inscriptions that has marked the progress of the magazine, augmented 
r the advertising patronage that the proper person is able to secure, 
> future success is assured. 

fiemtntecences of $©frtttter 

These popular articles by Prof. J. Warren Thyng are now issued in 
Lmphlet form, and ready for delivery. No more beautiful publication, 
lating to him who, if not a native, deserves much of the Granite 
:ate, has been published. Only a limited number has been printed, 
int postpaid for fifty cents. 


64 Hanover St. Manchester, N. H. 

<©ur Cober SHustration 

The second of the series of original and picturesque drawings of 
e Old Man of the Mountain, by Mr. D. T. Knight, used through the 
iurtesy of Walter G. Chase, M. D., adorns che first page of our cover 
is month. In the other, the solitary bear, coming out from his lair, 
scovers with evident wonder the stern-featured sentinel of the moun- 
in. In this an Indian, having heard of him, is searching the mountain 
ie to find him. 

Utterarp Heabe* 

Songs of the Average Man. By Sam Walter Foss. Cloth, i2mo., illustrated, 
2 pages. Price, $1.50. Lothrop, Lee & Shepherd, Publishers, "Boston. For sale in 
anchester by Goodman. 

This volume was received for review last fall, and we intended to do our work 
Dmptly and as faithfully as we could with a conscious leaning toward the author. We 
d read and re-read his other books, "Back Country Poems," "Whiffs from Wild 
sadows," and ''Dreams in Homespun," to say nothing of his numerous fugitive pieces, 
d been captivated by their charms. "The Calf on the Lawn," "The Volunteer Organist" 
d a hundred other poems had held us entranced with the homely virtues of their lines, 
we expected to share the same kindly appreciation for these "Songs of the Average 
an." Alas! we scanned the book carefully and laid it down disappointed. The peculiar 
:erest and indescribable fascination that belonged to the others were missing. There 
is no sentiment in everyday thought to match the wisdom between the lines of "The 
ilf on the Lawn"; there was no pathetic story told by another "Volunteer Organist," 
d nothing to take their places. Sadly we laid the book down, realizing that our friend 
d favorite poet had written out! We regretted, too, that he had hazarded a well-earned 
Dutation by allowing an inferior work to come out and under his name. Why cannot a 
iter, especially a poet whose fame is never to be trifled with, know when to stop? 

Not wishing to say an unkind word where we wished to speak the truth, we allowed 


e book to remain in forgetfulness upon our table for six months and more. Then, with- 
t seeking for its merits, we opened the volume at random and read "The Man from the 
•owd," when, lo! the oldtime spirit seemed to have been revived. Again we had the fire 
the poet in our soul, and "The Songs of the Average Man" became our own. We read 
d re-read "Elder Ford's Two Candidates" and, lest some other may miss it, we will 
produce it here: 


Now, I don't want to brag at all; but this is my idee: 

It takes a purty scrumptious man to git ahead er me. 

I've got a brain for plannin' things, I've got an eye that's peeled, 

An* the chap who gits ahead er me hez kep' himself concealed. 

I opened up my grocery-store down here two year ago, 

An' thought if I should jine the church, I'd have a better show; 

For this is a religious place, an' I seen very well 

The piouser a feller was, the more goods he would sell. 

So I applied to jine the church, let no time run to waste. 
"This is a solium step," they said, "an' shouldn' be took in haste." 
"Go home an' pray about this thing. Go pray," says Elder Ford, 
"An' talk it over prayerfully an' deeply with the Lord." 

_ I see they didn' want me then; but this is my idee: 

It takes a purty scrumptious man to git ahead er me. . .,,__ 

"I'll come an' see ye later, sir," sez I to Elder Ford, 

"W'en I've talked it over prayerfully an' deeply with the Lord." 

So two weeks later I appeared before the church ag'in 

An' asked politely as I could if they would let me in. 

"I've talked it over with the Lord," said I, "for many a day." 

"An' what, pray tell," asked Elder Ford, "what did the good Lord say?" 

"'I'm tryin' to get in,' sez I, 'to the church of Elder Ford, 
An' they won't let me in at all.' 'Don't worry,' sez the Lord. 
•You're not the only one,' sez he, 'they've laid upon the shelf. 
I've tried ten years without success to git in there myself.'" 

We turn page after page and find newer and deeper interest. He is the same homely 
ilosopher, the same ideal country poet that we admired twenty years ago, when we were 
th young men. Then why did we feel our first disappointment? Our reply shows that 
have learned anew an old truth. The merits of an author's work lie largely in the 
»od of the reader. If that is appreciative, if he feels with the poet the sentiments he 
Dresses the latter is voted good. Who reads poetry with a mind filled with thoughts of 
ching and btoken walls stumbles in his interest and halts in his reading. The fault is 
t in the book but in him. So what we condemn to-day we may read with pleasure 
morrow or revel to-day in what we ignored yesterday. In the light of this revelation we 
.d "Songs of the Average Man," while this truth from its pages remains with us: 

Then Fate calls for a man who is larger than men — 
There's a surge in the crowd — there's a movement — and then 
There arises a man that is larger than men — 
And the man comes up from the crowd. 

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Mttv tfje Council 

By David Gray, Esq. 

/^V'HE fire sinks low. The drifting smoke 
^^/ Dies softly in the autumn haze, 

And silent are the tongues that spoke 
The speech of other days. 
Gone, too, the dusky ghosts whose feet 
But now yon listening thicket stirred. 
Unscared within its covert meet 
The squirrel and the bird. 

The story of the past is told, 

But thou, Valley, sweet and lone! 
Glen of the rainbow! thou shalt hold 

Its romance as thine own. 
Thoughts of thine ancient forest prime 

Shall sometimes haunt thy summer dreams, 
And shape to low poetic rhyme, 

The music of thy streams. 

When Indian Summer flings her cloak 

Of brooding azure on the woods, 
The pathos of a vanished folk 

Still tinge thy solitudes. 
The blue smoke of their fires once more 

Far o'er the hills shall seem to rise, 
And sunset's golden clouds restore 

The red man's paradise. 


Strange sounds of a forgotten tongue 

Shall cling to many a crag and cave, 
In wash of falling waters sung, 

Or murmur of the wave. 
And oft in midmost hush of night, 

Shrill o'er the deep-mouthed cataract's roar, 
Shall ring the war-cry from the height 

That woke the wilds of yore. 

Sweet Vale, more peaceful bend thy skies, 

Thy airs are wrought with rarer balm: 
A people's busy tumult lies 

Hushed in thy sylvan calm. 
sweet thy peace! while fancy frames 

Soft idyls of thy dwellers fled, — 
They loved thee, called thee gentle names, 

In the long summer dead. 

Quenched is the fire; the drifting smoke 

Has vanished in the autumn haze: 
Gone, too, Vale, the simple folk 

Who loved thee in old days. 
But, for their sakes— their lives serene— 

Their loves perchance as sweet as ours— 
be thy woods for aye more green, 

And fairer bloom thy flowers! 

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3n tfje l^aps of HobetoeE 

Part I 
John Love well, Sr. 
By Edward E. Parker 

The following eloquent tribute to an unknown son of the early 
frontier of New England, delivered before the Daughters of the Amer- 
ican Revolution, at the dedication of the memorial tablet marking the 
site of his humble home, seems a fitting introduction to our series of 
articles upon that memorable period, "In the Days of Lovewell." — Editor. 

C?|N HONOR of John Lovewell, one of the early 
3f settlers of that part of old Dunstable which is now 
embraced within the boundaries of Nashua, the 
ladies of Matthew Thornton Chapter, D. A. R., of this 
city have this day marked, by a suitably inscribed memo- 
rial tablet, this spot which tradition, from time immemorial, 
had already marked as the site of his dwelling house. The 
correctness of the location is based entirely upon tra- 

But although tradition, as a source of information 
concerning events long past, must, generally speaking, be 
considered as untrustworthy, it may, nevertheless, under 
some conditions, such as the continuity and unvarying 
nature of the narration, so establish the probability of its 
truthfulness as to place it beyond cavil. 

Such appears to have been the conditions existing in 
this case, for there are those now living in our midst who, 
more than fifty years ago, had their attention repeatedly 
called to this spot by their elders, as being the site of John 
Lovewell's house, and who distinctly remember the old 
cellar hole, then visible. 



Here the Hon. Charles J. Fox, in his "History of 
Dunstable," published in 1846, located it. Speaking of it 
he says: "The cellar of his (Lovewell's) house may still be 
seen on the north side of Salmon Brook, just above the 
bridge, by the roadside." 

Lovewell had been dead about ninety years when Mr. 
Fox penned the above sentence, and in it he undoubtedly 
gave the tradition relating to this spot as it existed in his 
day, and which he obtained from old people then living, 
who, if not old enough to speak of John Lovewell from 
personal recollections of him, were, some of them at least, 
old enough to have heard their grandfathers, who could 
speak from personal knowledge both of Mr. Lovewell and 
also of his dwelling house, locate it here. 

The vestiges of the bridge of which Mr. Fox speaks 
were also to be seen within the memory of some of our 
oldest citizens and, although time, assisted by the hands of 
men, has long since obliterated all traces of both bridge 
and cellar, the constant and unchanging character of the 
tradition concerning them, which neither the flight of 
years nor the incredulity of man has been able to alter or 
efface, must be considered as sufficiently convincing proof 
of its truthfulness. 

Having established the identity of this spot as the 
site of his dwelling house, to our own satisfaction, at least, 
the questions naturally arise: Who was John Lovell? 
What was his nationality, his origin? From whence and 
when did he come to this country? Where did he locate 
upon his arrival in America? From whence and when did 
he come to Dunstable, and what did he do as a citizen of 
Dunstable that its citizens should erect a memorial tablet in 
his honor to-day, an hundred and fifty years after his death? 
These questions are very easy to ask, but some of them 
are far from easy to answer, for there is not a shred of 
documentary information relating to him in existence; that 
is, nothing can be truthfully claimed as having been writ- 
ten from personal knowledge of and concerning John 


Lovewell of Dunstable. Mr. Fox, who devotes one para- 
graph of about three hundred words to him, clearly recog- 
nized this fact and, in order to give some sort of a descrip- 
tion of his origin and antecedents before coming here, was 
obliged to resort to a tradition concerning a certain John 
Lovewell of Weymouth, whom he, perhaps not unreason- 
ably, conjectured might be identical with John Lovewell 
of Dunstable. 

That his account of John Lovewell of Weymouth is 
purely traditional can at once be seen by reading said para- 
graph. That the identity of the two Johns, as being one 
and the same, is merely conjectural on his part may be dis- 
covered in the same way. 

Since Mr. Fox wrote, although many searchers into 
historical mysteries have tried, none as yet, so far as I am 
aware, has been able to solve the problem of who John 
Lovewell really was or to throw any additional light upon 
Mr. Fox's speculations on the subject. 

But notwithstanding the fact that Mr. Fox's account 
of Lovewell before he came here is purely speculative, it is 
nevertheless ingenious, interesting and far from improb- 
able; and until it is disproved or rendered more improbable 
than it now appears, by the substitution of a better and 
more reliable account in its place, there is no reason why 
it should not be accepted as being so sufficiently near the 
truth as to satisfy all interested parties save, possibly, 
those whose dispositions are such as to class them with the 
doubting Thomases of this world. 

As to Lovewell's origin, Mr. Fox says: "He came, it 
is said, originally, from England, about 1660, and settled 
some years before 1690. He is said, according to the tra- 
dition in the family, to have been an ensign in the army 
of Cromwell and to have left England on account of the 
restoration of Charles II. in 1660. It is not improbable 
that he came to this town from Weymouth, as a person of 
the same name from that town was in the great Narragan- 
sett swamp fight December 19, 1675, and throughout 


Philip's War, under the famous Captain Church, and the 
handwriting of this person corresponds very closely with 
that of John Lovewell of Dunstable." The above quota- 
tion contains all that Mr. Fox has to offer concerning the 
identity of the two Johns as being one and the same. The 
names are the same and their handwriting similar. Rather 
slim evidence upon which to establish the point in ques- 
tion; but let it pass. 

If he came here soon after the swamp fight, or even 
soon after the close of King Philip's War, which occurred 
in 1668, he arrived but a few years after the General Court 
of Massachusetts issued the grant of Dunstable to the 
original proprietors. This grant was dated October 15, 

At this time a considerable portion of the land border- 
ing on the Merrimack River in this vicinity had already 
been settled, and much of it was in a state of rude cultiva- 
tion; the cultivated part heing near, and for the most part 
adjacent to the river. Back of that and extending for 
miles to the west and north were the primeval forests of 
pines; unbroken in their continuity, save here and there by 
the small clearing of some white pioneer, whose adventur- 
ous spirit, or hopes of founding a home had led him to 
push on into and dare the dangers of the wilderness. 

Both tradition and history speak of the magnificent 
size of the pines of Dunstable in this vicinity. Governor 
Wentworth once said of them that they were ''the best in 
New Hampshire," Indeed, such was their reputation that 
by royal enactment they were reserved for the King's navy, 
and marked with the king's sign manual, an Indian arrow. 
The owners of the lands were forbidden to cut the trees 
thus marked. 

At the time of his arrival this tract of land between 
Salmon Brook and the river, then called the neck, had 
been cleared and laid out into plats or sections, many of 
which, especially those nearest the river, were already 
occupied by settlers. It constituted the compact part of 


the settlement. Back of and around it, especially along 
the banks of the river to the south, were scattered clear- 
ings, some of which had already attained to the dignity of 
being called farms. 

Under the charter of 1673, every inhabitant was enti- 
tled to ten acres for his person and one acre more added 
for every twenty-pound estate, and house lots were not to 
consist of over thirty nor under ten acres. Those restric- 
tions were in force when Mr. Lovewell arrived and contin- 
ued to be for many years after. The lots into which "the 
neck was divided" were from thirty to forty rods wide and 
extended from Salmon Brook to the river. Presumably 
their area came within the provisions of the restrictions. 
This lot on which Mr. Lovewell settled was on the only 
highway then extending northward from "the neck" 
towards the Nashua River, which it crossed by a ford a few 
rods above its mouth. It was called the "County Road." 
Tradition says that Mr. Lovewell owned and operated a 
mill situated on the brook at this point, and, although the 
mill has long since disappeared, the probability of the 
truthfulness of the tradition is, in this case, strengthened 
by the town records, for, in 17 18, September 2, the records 
show that the town voted: "That John Lovewell, Sr., and 
his son John should have liberty to build a dam in the 
highway over Salmon Brook, not to incommode the high- 
way." Mr. Fox also says that Lovewell's farm extended 
far south of Salmon Brook, and also that in the latter part 
of his life he kept a store at the harbor. The mill, the 
farm and the store furnish sufficient proof of the nature of 
his every day life and avocations. 

As to his character, if he was once a crop-eared round- 
head in Oliver Cromwell's army, fighting against the gay 
cavaliers of King Charles II., there is little doubt but that 
he was at least a professedly religious man; and doubtless 
he could and did, like many another "Praise-God-Bare- 
Bones" of those times, cut down cavaliers between his 
prayers, with as little unconcern as he afterward displayed 


in cutting down Indians in Massachusetts or woods in New 

Mr. Fox says: "That in 1745, when he was more than 
one hundred years old, he was very constant in his attend- 
ance upon church;" and in confirmation of this statement 
he relates a story of him, connected with the Rev. Mr. 
Swan, who was dismissed from the church here in 1746 or 
1747, to the following effect: 

One Sabbath morning the Reverend gentleman "for- 
got the day and ordered his men to their work. They 
objected, telling him that it was Sunday. He would not 
believe them, but said if it is, we shall see old father Love- 
well on his way up the hill to church; and sure enough Mr. 
Lovewell soon appeared on his way to church, which he 
never missed." 

Mr. Fox fixes the year of his death as 1754, and his 
age at that time as one hundred and twenty years, although 
he evidently had grave doubts as to the correctness of the 
latter statement; a doubt which has subsequently been 
shared in by many others. Where he is buried is unknown 
to this day, even tradition being silent upon that point. 

During his residence here, extending over a period of 
at least sixty, and probably more, years, the growth of the 
town both in wealth and population was, until the very last 
few years, very slow. In 1680 there were but thirty fam- 
ines in town all told, and probably less than 150 inhabi- 
tants. In 1694 two-thirds of the inhabitants left town for 
fear of the Indians. Yet during this period the first meet- 
ing house was built in 1678, and in 1685, the Rev. Mr. 
Welds was ordained as the first settled minister in town. 
Within this period also, in 1736, Hollis was set off from 
Dunstable under the title of "The West Parish of Dun- 
stable," and the famous controversy concerning One Pine 
Hill began and ended. 

But perhaps the most interesting event occurring in 
connection with his life in Nashua, is the fact, if it be a 
fact, that he received and entertained Hannah Dustin as 


his guest when she came down the Merrimack on her way 
home, after her destruction of and escape from the clutches 
of her Indian captors, at the mouth of the Contoocook. 
That he did so entertain this famous heroine has long been 
a tradition in his family and among the citizens of Dun- 
stable and Nashua. 

That no mention of it appears among the numerous 
accounts of her capture and escape, in no way detracts 
from the probability of its truthfulness, because in the first 
accounts of the affair, upon which all subsequent ones are 
founded, the writers, as was natural, paid particular atten- 
tion to the details of her capture and the heroic measures 
which she adopted to free herself and companions from 
their enemies, leaving the events of her journey Dack 
home to their readers' imagination. 

Doubtless her story is familiar to all of you, yet it may 
not be inappropriate for me to repeat it on this occasion, 
not only on account of the tradition now perpetuated by 
the inscription upon this tablet, but also because bravery 
and heroism such as she exhibited cannot be too often 
spread before the public. The following brief statement 
is based upon one of the oldest accounts of her capture and 

On the fifth day of March, 1697, the town of Haver- 
hill, Mass., was attacked by Indians, who burned a number 
of houses and captured about forty of its inhabitants. 
Among those captured was Mrs. Hannah Dustin, the wife 
of- Thomas Dustin, their infant and her nurse, Mrs. Mary 
Neff. The Dustin house was situated about one mile 
from the garrison house in the village. At the time of the 
attack, Mr. Dustin was at work in the field near his house. 
Discovering the Indians as they approached, he ran into 
the house, hoping to secure the safety of his family. His 
wife was in bed and, despairing of being able to render her 
any service, he resolved to save his children, seven in num- 
ber, the eighth being the infant which was with its mother; 
and, having started them off in the direction of the village, 


he seized his gun, mounted his horse, and following in their 
rear retreated, and by loading and firing as rapidly as possi- 
ble at the Indians who pursued him, kept them at bay so 
that he finally got his flock safely into the shelter of a dis- 
tant house. Meanwhile a part of the Indians had entered 
the house and captured Mrs. Dustan and her nurse, who 
was attempting to fly with the babe in her arms. Com- 
pelling Mrs. Dustan to rise and leave the house, which 
they plundered and burned, they immediately began their 
march, taking her, Mrs. Neff, and several other persons 
along as captives. Mrs. Dustan was sick, feeble, almost 
deranged with terror, one of her feet bare, and the ground, 
it being yet early in the spring, partially covered with 
snow. The party had proceeded but a short distance when 
one of the Indians, thinking the infant which the nurse 
was carrying an incumbrance, snatched it from her arms 
and dashed its head against a tree. Many of the other 
captives were slaughtered as they grew weary. Notwith- 
standing Mrs. Dustan's feeble condition and her agony and 
anxiety of mind, she and her companions were enabled to 
endure the fatigues of the journey, the severe cold and the 
sufferings of hunger, until they finished an expedition of 
about one hundred and fifty miles. 

(Note here that all the early accounts of this affair give 
the length of the march as about one hundred and fifty 
miles. Mr. Robert Caverly, who has written the latest 
account, also puts the distance at one hundred and fifty 
miles. Yet he brings the inarch to an end on an island in the 
Merrimack at the mouth of the Contoocook River; a spot 
which is distant from Haverhill in a straight line less than 
fifty miles; and even if the party followed the windings of 
the Merrimack, the distance would have been less than 
seventy miles. But none of the early stories of this affair 
to which I have had access mention the Contoocook River 
as being the end of the march.) 

The wigwam in which the captives were finally lodged 
was inhabited by twelve persons besides the Indian who 


claimed them as his property. In April this Indian and 
his family set out for an Indian settlement more remote, 
taking the captives with them, and on the 31st of that 
month, Mrs* Dustan, nerved to desperation by the terrors 
of her situation, while the Indians were asleep, early in the 
morning, having awakened her nurse and a fellow prisoner, 
a young man from Worcester, dispatched ten of the twelve 
Indians. The other two escaped. 

Having scalped the Indians, she and her companions 
returned to Haverhill through the wilderness. It is very 
probable that this return was made in Indian canoes by 
way of the Merrimack River. 

The question as to whether Mrs Dustan, in killing her 
captors, was actuated by a spirit of revenge, has often been 
been discussed, and, if she was so actuated, whether or not 
she was justified in doing the deed. But it would, I think, 
strike the majority of people that, under the cirsumstances, 
whatever her motives,she was justified in thinking that 
ead Indians were the best Indians, and act accordingly. 

Apart from the incidents in Mr. Lovewell's life in 
Dunstable, as above narrated, so far as the records show, 
he pursued the even tenor of his way, quietly attending to 
his own business. His name does not appear on the town 
books as holding any position of honor, emolument or 
trust, or in any way taking part in town affairs. And were 
it not for the fact that he was the father of children whose 
fame was, after his death, the cause of arousing an interest 
in and keeping alive the traditionary stories concerning 
him, his name, like many another of his contemporaries, 
would long since have passed from the memory of man. 

His is a notable instance of the old saying that "The 
father lives in the son." 

John Lovewell was the father of four children, three 
of whom survived him. John, the eldest son, was born 
October 14, 1691. The date of his daughter Hannah's 
birth is unknown. Zaccheus, the second son, was born 
July 22, 1 70 1, and Jonathan, the youngest child, was born 
May 14, 17 12. 


Of these children, John and Zaccheus seem to have 
inherited the soldierly qualities of their sire. John grew 
up into a strong and active manhood. He was courageous, 
skilled in wood craft, fond of adventurous enterprises, and 
of indomitable pluck and perseverance. 

The story of his leading a band of picked men against 
the Indians in 1724, during the war afterwards called Love- 
welFs, of his encounter and battle with them at Pequakuet 
Pond, and his heroic death there at their hands, is familiar 
to us all. It stands out on the pages of Indian warfare in 
New Hampshire, conspicuous at once for the boldness, 
bravery and daring of both the whites and Indians who 
were engaged in it as well, as for the almost unparalled loss 
of life on each side, in proportion to the numbers engaged. 
John Lovewell was thirty-three years old at the time of 
his death. He is buried on the battlefield near Pequaket 

Zaccheus Lovewell was a colonel in the French and 
Indian War of 1759, succeeding Col. Joseph Blanchard in 
command of a regiment. He was present at the taking of 
Ticonderoga and Crown Point. He also took a conspic- 
uous part in the civil affairs of Dunstable throughout his 
life, as appears from the records. He died April 12, 1772, 
in the seventy-second year of his age. He was buried in 
the old cemetery on the Lowell road, and is the only mem- 
ber of the original Lovewell family buried there, so far as 
the tombstones show. 

Jonathan died in Nashua in 1792, aged seventy-nine 
years. From an early period he was actively engaged in 
town affairs in Dunstable, and was honored by its citizens 
by being elected and appointed to many positions of trust 
and responsibility. Up to within a short time of his death, 
he held the office of a judge for the Court of Common 
Pleas for Hillsborough county. 

The descendants of John Lovewell, Sr., are numerous 
and they are scattered all over New England. For many 
years after his death the name was a prominent one in 


town. But although there are many of his descendants 
still living in Nashua, the name of Lovewell, as belonging 
to a descendant of old John Lovewell, is, I believe, 
unknown here to-day. 

Since the publication of Mr. Fox's history there have 
been those who doubted the correctness of its statement in 
regard to Mr. Lovewell being one hundred and twenty 
years of age at the time of his death in 1754. But like all 
of the statements concerning Mr. Lovewell, it was tradi- 
tional, and therefore seemingly impossible to disprove. 

Within a few months, however, through the researches 
of Hon. Ezra Stearns, formerly of Concord, this state, a 
document purporting to be an affidavit of John Lovewell 
and Anna, his wife, has been brought to light, which, if 
true, settles the question of John Lovewell's age at the 
time of his death, as well as, also, the year in which he 
came to Dunstable. 

This document was found in the court files of New 
Hampshire, where it had lain for one hundred and fifty years. 
It is signed by John Lovewell and Anna Lovewell and by 
their cross, and sworn to before "Samuel Emerson, J. Peace," 
on the sixteenth day of March, 1744. It is in the form 
of a deposition and the justice's jurat states that it was 
taken to be used in a case then pending in court. In it 
John Lovewell's age is given as ninety-three years at the 
time. As it was dated in 1744, and he, Lovewell, died in 
1754, ten years after, he was one hundred and three years 
old, instead of one hundred and twenty, at the time of his 

In this same deposition he gives the date of his com- 
ing to Dunstable as 1680. 

Such is the story of John Lovewell, Sr. It is vague, 
indefinite and, in a personal sense, unsatisfactory. But it 
contains all the information of importance that, at the pres- 
ent time, can be given of and concerning him, and there- 
fore it suffices for the purposes of this sketch. 


Deposition of John Lovewell, Sr. 
By Ezra S. Stearns 

The Deposition of John Lovewell aged ninety-three and Anna his 
wife aged about eighty-three years who testify & say that in the year 16S0 
they were Inhaitants and resident in Dunstable & have been Inhabitants 
and resident there ever since and that in the said year 1680 there were 35 
Families settled in Dunstable beside several single men who were resident 
there and owned Lotts in said Town & further saith that in the first Ten 
Years' War for one Summer the Inhabitants all gathered in one Garrison 
and that about fifty-five years ago in the Month of August in the same 
Town there was killed by the Indians Four of the Inhabitants and in Sep- 
tember next following two more was Killed and one wounded and about 
Forty-eight years ago of the same Town there was one Killed and two 
captivated &. about the same time there was one Killed or captivated and 
about thirty-nine years ago in Dunstable there was eleven Persons Killed 
and three captivated by the Indians & one House & Garrison burned 
down at the same Time and that about thirty-three years ago there was 
one Person Killed and one wounded in Dunstable and the year following 
in Dunstable there was one Man more Killed and in the year following 
there was one Man more captivated & carried to Canada and in the year 
1724 there was Eight persons Killed one wounded & four captivated in 
Dunstable and in the year 1725 there was of the Inhabitants of Dun- 
stable five Killed and two wounded all which Mischiefs was done by the 
Indians in the time of War — and in the year 16S0 the Revd. Mr. Thomas 
Wells preached in Dunstable and continued there until he was ordained 
there to the work of the Ministry which was about two years after and 
that from the Time we Srst came to Dunstable the Inhabitants has never 

drawn off. 


"Province of / ,, , ^ 
New Hampshire } March l6 ' l ^- 

Then the above named John Lovewell and Anna Lovewell made 
Solemn Oath to the truth of the foregoing Deposition by them signed 
relating to an Action of Ejectment wherein one Joseph Kidder is Appel- 
land & the Proprietors of Londonderry are Appellees to be heard and 
tried at the Supreme Court of Judicature to be holden at Portsmouth in 
said Province on Tuesday the nineteenth day of this instant March by 
adjournment from the first Tuesday in February last past — the Deponents 


firing more than five miles from Portsmouth where the Case is to be tried 
& the said Proprietors of Londonderry the adverse Party being duly noti- 
ced was present by one of their Committee for Law-Suits viz: Capt. Moses 
Kamed. Sworn before 


J. Peace. 

The foregoing deposition of John and Anna Love- 
well has slumbered in the court files of New Hampshire 
more than one hundred and fifty years. In the mean time 
there has been much discussion and considerable uncer- 
tainty concerning the number of persons killed by the 
Indians in the ancient township of Dunstable. The testi- 
mony of these aged witnesses, who settled in Dunstable in 
1680, and who had personal knowledge of the events is of 
importance. The deposition was made in 1744 and the 
mention of August and September "about fifty-five years 
ago" probably refers to 1791 when Joseph Hassell, Anna, 
his wife, and Benjamin, his son, and Mary Marks were 
killed September 2 and to the killing of Christopher Tem- 
ple and Obediah Perry, which occurred on the twenty- 
eighth day of the same month. 

The statement that "about forty-eight years ago of 
the same town there was one killed and two captivated 
and about the same time there was one killed or captivated" 
is of interest. The accredited traditions of the town do 
present a corresponding record. 

The Lovewells allege that about 1705 eleven were 
killed and three were carried into captivity. The events 
in the minds of these aged witnesses mainly occurred in 
1706. At this time Nathaniel Blanchard, Lydia, his wife, 
and one child, and Hannah Blanchard and Elizabeth, wife 
of John Cummings, Jr., and Rachel Galusha were mur- 
dered by the Indians and concerning the number of sol- 
diers killed the same day at the Weld Garrison and at the 
Galusha Garrison there is a marked conflict in the tradi- 
tions of the town. The witnesses speak of three captives. 
The wife of Captain Butterfield, Richard Hassell, Samuel 


Butterfield and Samuel Whitney, Sr. were captured about 
this date. 

The statement that in 171 1 and the two succeeding 
years two were killed, one wounded and one captured is 
not found in other narratives and it is, perhaps, possible 
that a few of the casualties generally supposed to have 
taken place in 1706 or immediately preceding occurred at 
this time. In 1724, the deponents say, eight were killed, 
one wounded and four captured. This statement refers to 
the losses near Thornton's Ferry. The witnesses do not 
allege that all the dead were residents of Dunstable. The 
persons killed were Ebenezer French, Thomas Lund, 
Oliver Farwell, Ebenezer Cummings, Benjamin Carter, 

Daniel Baldwin, John Burbank and Johnson. The 

first five were Dunstable men. Three of the four prisoners 
referred to were Nathan Cross, Thomas Blanchard and 
William Lund. 

All of the foregoing casualties, according to the state- 
ments of the Lovevvells, occurred in Dunstable. In the 
allegation that ''in the year 1725 there was of the inhab- 
itants of Dunstable five killed and two wounded," there is 
no mention of the place in which the casualties occurred. 
The venerable witnesses, mindful of the loss of their son, 
referred to the Lovewell fight at Pequawket. The five 
Dunstable men who were slain in that memorable expedi- 
tion were Capt. John Lovewell, Lieut. Josiah Farwell, 
Lieut. Jonathan Robbins, Ensign John Harwood and 
Robert Usher. Samuel Whiting, Jr., was one of the two 
Dunstable men said to be wounded. 

It is stated on good authority that during these troub- 
lous times Robert Parris, his wife and one daughter were 
killed by the Indians and that two daughters escaped, one 
of whom married a Richardson and the other became the 
wife of John Goffe and was the mother of Col. John Goffe, 
a conspicuous character in the annals of New Hampshire. 
It is well known that John Goffe, generally distinguished 
as Esquire Goffe, married Hannah Parris, sometmies w r rit- 


tea Parish. In the History of Dunstable, the Hon. 
Charles J. Fox says that the massacre of the Parris family 
occurred soon after 1703, but Col, John Goffe was born in 
1701, which leads to the presumption that the Parris mas- 
sacre was at an earlier date than that given by Mr. Fox. 

The statement that John Lovewell, the deponent, 
lived to the great age of one hundred and twenty years, has 
repeatedly appeared in print. It is one of those peculiar 
traditions that the curious seize upon without investiga- 
tion. It is admitted that he died about 1752 and it is 
equally certain that his age did not exceed one hundred 
and two years. 

Cf)e Host Cup of Cea 

By Mrs. Edward Stevens 

This poem was read at the Old Home Week celebration in Notting- 
ham, August 18, 1903, and afterwards published in the Exeter Neius- 
UtUr.— Editor. 

May I tell a tale of Nottingham 
That happened years ago? 
'Twas in the old colonial times, 
Before they struck the blow 
That gave to us our country 
United, free and strong, 
Where justice is the watchword 
And right triumphs over wrong. 

It was in the early autumn, 
Before the frost came down, 
To open wide the chestnut burr 
And turn the maples brown. 
The sun was slowly setting, 
And the air was crisp and chill, 
When a party of men on horseback 
Rode down the long "Square Hill." 

They had ridden since dawn from Portsmouth, 
They longed for food and rest. 
They knew that at "Butler's tavern" 
Was shelter for man and beast. 


So, urging their tired horses 

Along at a quickened pace, 

They reached the site that now is known 

To us as the "Boody place," 

Where back in seventeen seventy-three 

The "public house" on the hill 

Was kept by Jephania Butler, 

And his good wife Abigail. 

They joined "mine host in the bar-room, 

Round the cheery open fire, 

With its four-foot hickory back-log, 

Where the flames rose higher and higher, 

They talked of their country's oppression, 
Of King George over the sea, 
They talked of just taxation, 
Then spoke of tax on tea. 
One said it was wrong and illegal, 
And that in time 'twould be proved. 
They vowed they never would drink it 
Until the tax was removed. 

Before the fire stood a stranger, 
Who with them would not agree, 
Said he "this is nonsense you're talking 
Now I, for one, drink tea. 
I have some here in my pocket, 
That presently I shall brew, 
And when I eat my supper, 
I shall drink a cup of two." 

Near the door stood Dame Butler, 
In her hand a carving knife, 
Her patriotic nature roused, 
Indignant thoughts were rife. 
"Does he think that he can come here, 
And in my house drink tea? 
Does he think I shelter a Tory? 
Inded, it shall never be." 

Then quickly she darted forward, 

Her plate of meat she let fall, 

And with one deft stroke of the carver, 

Cut coat-tails, pocket and all, 

Threw them into the blazing fire-place, 

Before he had time to think, 


While she said in a voice triumphant, 

•That tea you shall never drink." 


No II 



Drawn for The Granite State Magazine by John Everett Beane 

Character Sketches 

"The Miller" 

|HE ever-changing kaleidoscope of time reveals no 
greater change in the onward march of human 
destiny than that suggested by our artist in his 
y^j^gg^ portrayal of a phase of life now blended so deeply 
in the new order of things as to live only on the borderland of 
yesterday. Few, if any, are left of the humble, low- walled, 
weather-beaten buildings that once were so frequently to be 
seen along the banks of our New England streams, clinging 
with what seemed a precarious hold upon the brink of some 
ledge overhanging the waterfall that made it such an important 
fa&or in the livelihood of the rural population. In those days 
the goddess Ceres held sway supreme over the hillsides of the 
Granite State, where fields of ripening grain nodded their in- 
finite heads to the passing breeze, sending abroad their mes- 
sages of plenty and prosperity. But these beckoning hosts, for- 
ever moving but never advancing, have vanished with the 
fleeting years, and the old grist-mill has strewn the rock with 
its ruins, the dam that furnished its forces has fallen away, 
while the very stream itself speaks of the blight of departed 
industry in its subdued song of slow- moving melody. 

Within the old grist-mill was an air and atmosphere of 
mystery and romance. What pictures of elfin land was por- 
trayed to the childish beholder upon its rough walls and ceiling 
ribbed with huge timbers and festooned with swaying cob- 
webs touched with the snow of the white dust rising like a 
vapor above the wide-mouthed hopper ! Over this stood the 
miller, grim and solemn visaged, a veritable ghost, if ever one 
existed, or moving to and fro with shuffling step, his footfall 
was drowned by the steady rumble of the grinding stones or 
the sullen grumble of the rolling waterfall. 






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ftemmtecences of a filler 

By John Everett Beane 

"The mill will never grind again 

With the water that has passed." 
So sang the sirens of old. 
But now the brook may cease to flow, 
As the mill has ground its last. 

AR away in old New Hampshire, at the foot of one 
of the Granite Hills, half hidden among the green 
foliage, sits the old mill by the brookside, which 
rushes on and on. Not far away from the mill, entrenched 
in the very hillside, is the picturesque home of the miller. 
Here he lives, in this serene solitude, watching the sum- 
mers come and go, the wintry winds whirl their blasts 
through the tree tops. He heeds them not. He watches 
the moon pass on with its monotonous vicissitudes, yet he 
is done; he has taken his turn at the mill and likewise the 
mill has taken its turn in the evolution of American 

The stone has ceased to grind, the wheels have ceased 
to turn, and here they stand, mill and miller, at the sunset 
of their existence as living monuments that mark the path 
of the evolution of industry, making our glorious republic 
what it is. 

As I approached him for permission to make a sketch 
of his mill, I saw in him and his six feet of height the 
shattered remains of a person far greater than the hopes of 
future generations, and as he sat beside me, while I was 
sketching, leaning on his elbow, his eyes half closed in a 
very meditative mood, I knew that he was dreaming dreams 
of younger days when he was strong and powerful, of the 
days when the stone growled as it ground the golden grain 
in unison with the rippling waters. He could stand it no 



longer. He awoke from his dream and gave vent to the 
pent-up passion that burned within him. 

"Young man, times have changed," he began. "You 
sit here sketching as a curiosity the old mill that was once 
the pride of all the country round; yes, my boy, the best 
in the state. When I was young I was busy all day long, 
and much is the grain that I have ground and bolted in my 
time. All these surrounding farms produced fairly large 
crops of corn, wheat and barley and I ground it all. Yes, 
I made money and lots of it, too, but I spent it again by- 
putting the best machinery in my mill money could buy, 
consequently giving my customers the best of service. 
Young man, this old mill which you regard as worthless and 
a curiosity, which it truly is, represents a vast fortune, for 
in those days machinery cost good money. Yes, it repre- 
sents the life-long earnings of an ambitious man. It was 
the pride of my heart and now it's worthless, and why — 
and why?" 

Not waiting for a reply he continued: 

"I have seen forests cut and fields cleared, I have seen 
villages and cities spring up where a vast wilderness once 
stood, I have seen every railroad built in New England. I 
have seen the great mills and factories spring up, and all 
with the aid of modern invention, tending to one point, 
the concentration of wealth and industry, and here am I, 
overwhelmed and outdone in the rapid race of business 

"Ah! 'tis well I remember the time when there came 
to our village school a lad from one of the way-back coun- 
try farms, and Saturdays he would bring the grist to mill. 
As he sat and watched the coarse flour bolted from the 
wheat, little did I realize that he was destined to become 
one of the greatest millers in the land, and to-day hold 
sway over the flour products of the whole world. Yes, it 
was he and his ability that makes my old mill worthless; 
it was he who built the great flour mills of the west and 
concentrated the flour industry of America. 


"Yet the farmers are somewhat at fault. The young 
men have gone to college and become educated because it 
was thought the easier way to get a living, but, sir, I tell 
you it is best not to know too much. 

"Years ago every young man learned a trade, but now 
you artists and draughtsmen plan things all on paper, so 
the most ignorant can erect a building as easily as a skillful 

"The young men of to-day have vaulting ambitions 
which o'er-leap themselves. They lead a fast life, must 
have fine clothes and a nice office. Look at my office. 
Here is where I kept the grain accounts of the country 
around for years. See the old stool, old stove, and a box 
for a desk. Not much like the office of the grain mer- 
chants in town, with its easy chairs, steam heater, roll-top 
desks, and everything lovely. They want too much, and 
failure is their destiny. 

"Bnt I am old, I must soon go to my last reward, the 
old mill will soon fall a victim of the elements, and but for 
remembrances we will be wiped from the face of the 

Thus ended his soliloquy, the fire of passion died 
down, and he again fell into dreaming what were to him 
pleasant dreams. He is a true philosopher. In the course 
of his life he has hammered out a philosophy logical and 

They may pass on, both mill and miller, yet their 
achievements will live forever on the immortal pages of 
unwritten history, as the corner-stone and foundation of 
our industries, society and government. 

B ^eto ^fampsfnre Parable 

By Mary C. Butler 

CLOSE among the hills of Webster nestles beautiful 
Lake Winnepauket. Surrounded by deep woods, 
silent except for the sighing of the pines. From 
the distance old Kearsarge in all its grandeur and majesty 
keeps watch o'er the lake as it ripples and smiles in the 
bright sunshine. Here the squirrel plays all day in the 
woods, and the fish swim in the lake. Wild roses bloom on 
the shore, and the bees hum in the blossoms. 

Who can picture anything more beautiful than the ris- 
ing and setting of the sun in such a place? Slowly from 
behind the huge Palatine Hill rises the sun from a bed of 
soft changeable colors. As the first ray of the sun travels 
over the lake, a lonely loon flies up with its weird, half- 
human cry, a messenger of day. The birds begin to awaken 
and the still woods echo and re-echo with the music of this 
choir. Tranquilly the wood thrush begins the song, and 
one by one the others take it up until the music rises in a 
paean of praise, more wonderful than any choir of man 
can prodnce. The woods glisten with diamonds of dew, 
and their lofty arches are filled with the sweetest incense 
on earth, the odor of dew-kissed flowers. 

Now the day advances and again the wood are hushed. 
The twigs crackle under the tread of animals, and the soft 
waves lap the shore. The little world seems drowsy in 
the sunshine of noonday. The leaves rustle softly and 
the pines sing as the cool breeze from the lake sweeps 
through them. 

As the afternoon wears on, the lake begins to roughen 
and foam-crested waves roll far over the sands of the 
beach, and beat upon the rocks and shores. As the even- 
ing approaches all this is changed. The lake becomes like 



a sea of glass in which are reflected images of the huge 
trees, the rocks and beautiful flowers on the shore. The 
shadows lengthen, for the sun is beginning to set. Slowly 
it goes down behind the mountain, clothed in its purple 
robe! The lake is bathed with a myriad of changing hues, 
the sky is a sea of color, and nature, hushed, seems to bow 
in reverence to it. 

The shadows deepen and, one by one, the twinkling 
stars come out. Once again is the Palatine Hill a scene of 
beauty. This time it is the moon that honors it. Like a 
huge ball of fire, it rises o'er the darkening hill, touching 
even the inmost recesses of the woods with its cool, white 
rays. Slowly it rises, and night settles down on the lake. 
A deer comes down to the shore, to feast on the lily pads. 
A bass jumps for a fly. The twigs snap and crackle under 
stealthy footsteps. These are the only sounds except, per- 
haps, late at night, the call of a coon or the hideous cry of 
a lonely lynx. So the night wears away, and again calm 
dawn approaches. 

Calm as nature usually is, she is not always pleasant; 
she cannot always smile. Perhaps a storm may arise. 
Black clouds may roll over old Kearsarge. To me the 
storm is most beautiful of the lake's wonders. The waters 
become black. The wind, with a sullen roar, rushes down 
upon the lake and lashes up the waters, rolling huge, foam- 
crested waves to the shore.* Deep thunders roll, echoing 
and re-echoing from hill to hill. Blinding lightnings flash 
and the rain falls in torrents. From the deep woods comes 
the crash of falling trees. In an instant, the tempest is 
past. The rain ceases, and the sun comes out. All nature 
seems to smile through her tears. 

So do the changes go on, day after day, week after 
week, but never is the lake twice exactly the same. It is 
a place of never-ending, ever-changing beauties, a place 
where man must worship the Creator who made him. 
Clearer and ever stronger comes the thought to our minds: 

"What master mind hath done this thing, 
What god hath been so kind?" 

1 ! 
i i 

Cfce Vermont Grants 

New Hampshire's Interest in Them 

By Ovando D. Clough 

Part II 

( Continued from the yanuary- March number) 

/^^HE College party then sent out from Dresden let- 
' VJ . ters to a "Committee of Safety" in several towns 

^ to "come together for action," when eleven of the 
river towns, from Lebanon to Bath, met in convention at 
Dresden, July 31, and practically seceded from the Exeter 
government on the plea that "one part of a colony could 
not control another part." They boldly declared that they 
would not spend blood and treasure to defend against 
chains forged abroad, and submit to the like forged at 

Towns agreeing to such sentiments were invited to 
write to Bezaleel Woodward, a professor at Dartmouth and 
clerk of committees at Dresden, and that many did so 
write is shown by the fact of a communication from Pres- 
ident Weare of the Council of New Hampshire to that 
state's delegates in Congress, December 16, 1776, saying, 
"that, owing to an address fabricated at Dartmouth Col- 
lege, almost the whole of Grafton County refused to send 
members to the Assembly." 

While these things were going on, the Bennington 
party on the west side of the river and west of the Green 
Mountains had been antagonizing New York, laying plans 
for an independent state west of the river. In January, 
1775, several towns west of the mountains met in Manches- 
ter, twenty-five miles north of Bennington, in opposition 


new Hampshire's interest in them 115 

to New York. In April, 1775, committees of safety from 
towns east of the mountains met at Westminster, on the 
river, and petitioned the king to be taken out of so offen- 
sive a jurisdiction and joined to some other, or formed into 
a new one. But the first skirmishes of the Revolutionary 
War, at Lexington and Concord, rendered the petition to 
the king of no avail, so no other action was taken until 
January, 1776, when a convention of the committees of 
most of the towns west of the mountains met at Dorset 
and sent an address to the Continental Congress against 
further submission to New York. Congress, however, 
advised them to remain under the jurisdiction of New 
York until the end of the war. This caused anger and an 
increased desire for further action. 

In June a convention of all towns west of the river 
was called to meet in July again in Dorset. This was just 
before the college party's meeting at Dresden, and it was 
resolved to ask the people of said grants to form them- 
selves into a separate district. There being only one dele- 
gate from the east side of the mountains present at the 
at the Dorset convention, a committee was appointed to 
visit the east side towns and solicit their co-operation. 
During the summer said committee did meet committees 
from Windsor, Thetford and Norwich. At the Norwich 
meeting, John Wheelock, son of President Wheelock of 
Dartmouth, was present and proposed that the College 
party and the east side of the river towns join the Dorset 
people in their movement, but no action was taken. 

At the next convention in Dorset, in September, ten 
delegates from the east side of the mountain towns were 
present, but the convention did no more than to adjourn to 
meet in October, at Westminster, on the river. At that 
time the Americans met a defeat on Lake Champlain 
which stayed, for a time, all civic and political action. But 
in January, 1777, a convention met at Westminster court- 
house and declared its independence of New York and voted 
unanimously to be a "free and independent state" under 


the College party's name of "New Connecticut." At this 
time the College party, by its united committees, had 
secured the allegiance of forty towns heretofore belonging 
to the Exeter government, and in June, 1777, President 
Weare and a committee visited Grafton county to "con- 
sider the consequences of such internal discord and sepa- 
ration," but were met by the declaration of the united com- 
mittees that the "declaration of independence by the 
colonies made null and void the antecedent governments, 
and that the people of the various colonies politically 
reverted back to first conditions, and so must begin new 

The local committees met President Weare and his 
committee at Ord way's Tavern in Lebanon, February 13, 
with twelve towns represented, President Wheelock, of 
Dartmouth, being present as a spectator. But their dis- 
cussion brought no results. The scheme of uniting with 
New Connecticut did not prevail. 

The Westminster convention assembled, as per adjourn- 
ment, June 4, at Windsor, with an increased representa- 
tion, and took steps to draft a constitution for a new state, 
to be reported at a constitutional convention of new dele- 
gates, to meet also at Windsor, July 2. 

At the June convention the Bennington party had 
been able, against the opposition of the College party, to 
change the proposed name of New Connecticut for the 
new state to that of Vermont. The Dresden coterie were 
little dismayed at this evident set-back, and went on with 
their schemes. Their united committees met in Hanover, 
a week after the June convention at Windsor, and prepared 
an address, or an ultimatum, to the Exeter Assembly, stat- 
ing the conditions under which the disaffected towns would 
unite with New Hampshire. But the conditions of the war 
at that time made its presentation unadvisable, while the 
meeting of the Constitutional Convention at Windsor, July 
2,came at the time of Burgoyne's advance. Many of the dele- 
gates were in the American army, and were at the convention 

new Hampshire's interest in them 117 


"on leave," so the business was hurriedly transacted at the .. j 

village tavern, which was thereafter called "Constitution 
Hall," a part of which, it is said, still stands. 

Being thus held almost amid the tumult, roar and 
clang of war, this convention was one of the most dramatic 
and exciting of the many enacted in that long period of war- 
fare. The delegates met first in the meeting-house and lis- 
tened to a sermon by Rev. Aaron Hutchinson, a learned and 
noted divine, then of Pomfret. The work of the conven- 
tion had but just begun when there arrived an "express" 
from Col. Seth Warner, the "Colonel Warrington" of the 
"Green Mountain Boys," telling of the advance of Bur- 
goyne on Ticonderoga. The regular business of the con- 
vention was stopped at once, and steps taken to send men 
and provisions for the defense. An express with a copy 
of Warner's message was also sent to the New Hampshire 
Assembly, then in session at Exeter, which also said, 
"Every prudent step should be taken to protect our friends 
at the front." Then the regular business of the conven- 
tion went on again, as deliberately as before. The draft 
of the Constitution that had been prepared by the com- 
mittee was considered, part by part, separately, for four 
days, when another excitement came, by the arrival of an 
express from General St. Clair, telling of the evacuation of 
Ticonderoga, the pursuit of the Americans by the British 
and their attack on Colonel Warner at Hubbardton. The 
line of the enemy lying along by the homes of many of 
the western town delegates caused them great anxiety and 
a desire to adjourn at once and go to their defense. But 
just as this might have been done, and probably would have 
been done, suddenly, almost as if God had become angry at 
some act or dereliction, an awe-inspiring thunder storm, 
typical of the storm of war menacing home and country a 
few miles away, broke over the place, compelling all to stay 
within. But it did not stay the work they were there to 
do, and amid the mingled roar of wind, plash of rain, peal 
of thunder and flash of lightning, they read again, as a 
whole, the Constitution and adopted it unanimously. 


An election was ordered for the next December, when 
representatives were to be elected to the first General 
Assembly, to be held in Bennington in January. A com- 
mittee was named to procure arms for the state, and a 
"council of safety" to administer affairs until the state 
could be duly set to work. And then, the storm still 
raging, they did one other distinguishing act, the first of 
the kind of all colonial conventions, assemblies or legis- 
latures. While seeking their own liberties, which showed 
that they of that convention, contending for justice amid 
their own perils, were imbued with the instincts of justice 
for others and the establishment forever of the humanity 
of the Green Mountain Boys' democracy, they voted that 
"slavery should not exist within the new state." 

The storm of the elements nearly over, the anger of 
God apparently appeased, the political work well and glori- 
ously done, the convention adjourned and the members 
hastened to defend their homes, where the tempest of war 
was still raging. 

The College party, after preparing its ultimatum to 
the Council at Exeter, was inactive till the summer of 1777 
had passed and it met in October at Hanover and sent it to 
the Assembly then in session. In November the Assem- 
bly answered it, saying, "Though far from perfect, present 
conditions would do for present purposes, but as soon as 
conditions of the war would permit, the people, under 
.equal representation, should convene and form a permanent 
system." But this did not suit the Dresden coterie. 

When the Assembly met again, in December, it pro- 
posed that the towns might instruct their representatives 
to call a Constitutional Convention, to be chosen by a full 
and free vote, to form a "permanent government." This 
did not satisfy the Dresden folk and, though the force of 
their contention was a good deal weakened, they sent out 
again to the towns printed arguments full of all the arts of 
the scholar, to show the wisdom of all the grants on both 
sides of the river uniting under one government, either by 


new Hampshire's interest in them 119 

the east side towns joining the new state of Vermont, or 
the joining of the east and the west side towns in a new 
confederation, with its seat of government at Dresden, 
which then was the hub around which their political inter- 
ests revolved. Then followed in the towns on both sides 
of the river moves and schemes, and counter-moves and 
schemes, causing much civic unrest. The Vermont Con- 
stitutional Convention met at Windsor, December 24, but, 
on account of conditions of the war, postponed the date of 
the election till March 1, 1778; and the first Assembly 
adjourned to March 12, and changed the place of meeting 
from Bennington to Windsor. 

A month before the date of this Assembly at Windsor, 
the united committees of the College party met in Cornish, 
to start a new scheme of a union to the new state of Ver- 
mont of all New Hampshire towns twenty miles east of the 
river. To the eleven towns that originally had joined the 
united committees, five more had been added, three of 
them, Cornish, Piermont and Lyman (the writer's home 
town) being river towns. 

When the Assembly met at Windsor, March 12, the 
united committees of the College party were in session in 
Cornish, just across the river, and as soon as the new 
state had been organized at Constitution Hall, sent over a 
committee, asking admission of their sixteen east-side 
towns and all others wishing such union. But a majority 
of the Assembly did not wish to receive them, whereupon 
some of the minority representatives threatened to with- 
draw from the new state and join the east side towns in 
forming another. It was then referred to a vote of the 
people, which, as reported at Bennington in June, showed 
that thirty-five towns favored the union, and twelve 
opposed it. June 16, 1778, the sixteen east-side towns 
were made a part of the then state of Vermont, and other 
towns were advised that they could be if they so desired. 

(To be continued) 

- ■ -: - 


Cf)e Opening of tfje J^orti) 

By Claribel M. Weeks 

-g^ROM the earliest settlement of New Hampshire, 
"\\ the White Mountains have been the state's great 
^*i natural attraction. Their bald summits, white 
during eight or nine months of the year, are the first land 
sighted by home-coming ships; the last, seen as clouds on 
the horizon, by ships outward bound Those who live near 
them find the same charm in their rugged and romantic 
scenery that a sailor finds in the sea. 

The early settlers of New Hampshire, however, had little 
appreciation of the beauties of this range. They thought 
of these snow-crowned mountains only as a formidable 
barrier to the development of the northern part of the 
colony. The Indians regarded them with almost religious 
reverence, and could not be induced to ascend to their sum- 
mits. They had a tradition relating to this mysterious 
region, somewhat resembling the Hebrew story of the 
flood. According to this legend, waters sent by the Great 
Spirit once covered the land, drowning all the inhabitants 
save one chief and his wife, who fled to the White Moun- 
tains for safety. From these two, the Indian world was 
re-peopled. Thus regarding these mountains as the birth- 
place of their race, the savages held them as a sacred region, 
from which they endeavored to debar all white men. They 
carefully guarded the secret of the passes which they used 
in going north to Canada, and not until a few years before 
the Revolution were these discovered by the colonists. 

The first settlers of northern Coos used the Connecti- 
cut River as a highway. Rogers' Rangers, who returned 
from Saint Francis by way of this valley in 1759, brought 
wonderful reports of the beauty of the country and the 
fertility of the soil. Soon after David Page, of Haverhill, 



being dissatisfied with the division of land in his own 
town, obtained a large grant of forest land in what is now 
the town of Lancaster. In the following autumn, he sent 
his son and Emmons Stockwell to explore the tract and 
take possession. The next spring, several families came up~ 
from Haverhill. 

Agriculture naturally became the leading industry in 
this new community. The soil near the river was so rich 
that for years enormous crops were raised without any use 
of fertilizers. At first the grain was ground by horse 
power, but this was only a slight improvement on the 
mortar and pestle still used by many. Afterwards three 
water-power mills were built in succession, and when each 
one in turn was destroyed by fire the people of Lancaster 
became despondent. Haverhill was still the nearest settle- 
ment to the south, and the river remained the only means 
of communication. Passing the ''Fifteen-Mile falls" on rafts 
or in rude boats propelled by oars was a task of difficulty 
and danger. In winter ox-sleds were used on the ice at 
the constant risk of breaking through. As settlements 
increased up the Israel Valley, the need of a road through 
the mountains became more and more apparent. 

In 1771 Timothy Nash, an old hunter who lived alone 
in the forest country near the Israel River, made a dis- 
covery which was destined to open up the whole north to 
travel and trade. One day, while moose hunting, he fol- 
lowed a trail up Cherry Mountain. The summit had never 
been explored by a white man before, so the hunter climbed 
a tall birch to gain an unobstructed view. Looking to the 
south, he saw a long, irregular defile stretching away 
between the mountains — the now famous White Mountain 
Notch. At once all thought of moose hunting passed from 
his mind. In scrambling down the tree, he lost one of his 
mittens, a circumstance from which he called the peak 
"Mitten Mountain," a name soon changed to Cherry, 
which it now bears. Steering with the unerring skill of an 
old woodsman, he made his way to the entrance of the 



notch and explored it carefully. Every step confirmed his 
surmise, — that he had found the gateway of the moun- 
tains. He reported his discovery to Governor Wentworth, 
who rewarded him by a grant of land in the White Moun- 
tains, whose secret he had penetrated. 

Meanwhile other settlements were made in the north 
country. A grant, comprising a large part of the Israel 
Valley, was bestowed on one John Goffe. In 1773, 
he sold his northern estate, which he had named Dart- 
mouth, to Col. Joseph Whipple of Portsmouth. Colonel 
Whipple and his brother, both merchants of considerable 
influence, moved to the northern wilderness and founded 
the little township of Dartmouth, which now, under the 
name of Jefferson, bears the honor of being the highest 
point on the main road between Maine and Vermont, and 
commanding the most extensive view of the great peaks. 
The adjoining town of Whitefield, named for the famous 
Methodist divine, was organized in 1774. This was the 
last township granted under the crown in New Hamp- 

At this point, northern development was checked by 
the Revolutionary War. Even in the town of Lancaster, 
which had been established more than ten years, the 
people lost heart and many wished to abandon their farms 
and return to a safer home in the southern part of the 
state. When at length some of their numbers were cap- 
tured and taken to Canada by the Indians, the townsmen 
met at the home of Emmons Stockwell to plan for their 
future course. The resolution of this one man saved the 
town from total desertion. "My family and I," he said, 
"will stay here.". A few others followed his example, and 
Lancaster still remains. 

At the close of the war, new roads were opened 
through the heart of the mountains, northern settlement 
took new vigor, and Coos became an important factor in 
the development of the state. 

Few people who now make use of the railroad through 
the White Mountain Notch ever think of Timothy Nash 


or the old Indian trail which first ran where the steel rails 
are now laid. The pioneers of the old days have passed 
away, and few of those who live on the very lands which 
they won from the wilderness know that they ever existed. 
The names of Joseph Whipple, Emmons Stockwell, Abel 
Crawford and a few others still stand out in the records of 
the past. The memory of the discovery of the notch was 
long kept alive by the term "Nash and Sawyer Location," 
applied to the tract of land granted to Nash and a fellow 
hunter on account of this very discovery. But this land is 
already cut up into farms, and soon the old name will be 
lost, and Timothy Nash will only be remembered in those 
stories of the past that are still handed down in families 
who are proud of their descent from the first settlers. 
Thus names perish and memories fade, but what these men 
did for their state will always stand, and the homes and 
industries made possible by their labors will remain their 
best memorial for ages yet to come. 

By Charles Henry Chesley 

That time we went a-gypsying, 

It was in budding May, 
When saucy Cupid twanged his string 

And sped his shaft to slay; — 
That time we went a-gypsying, 

I lost my heart for aye. 

That time we went a-gypsying, 
The skies were fair and blue, 

And in our hearts the joy of spring 
Went bounding through and through; 

That time we went a-gypsying, 
I lost my heart to you. 

benjamin C ^etoman 

A Pen Sketch of a Famous Artist 
By Gray Fairlee 

/^'^HIS landscape painter in oil and water color has an 
' v* M art history which distinguishes him from most 
artists now living, and places him in the front 
rank of the gifted sons of the brush in the Pine Tree 
State. Not only has he studied with the most noted 
artists of this country, but he numbers among his teachers 
abroad some of the most illustrious in the old country. It 
was possibly at Julien's studio in Paris that he drew the 
highest realizations of his dreams. Here he found not 
merely a man of his temperament, but a critic capable of 
inspiring him with the highest conception of the art, 
though himself not meeting the high ideals he taught. 
Here Mr. Newman met Gustav Boulanger and Lefebvre. 
Douran, the great Parisian portrait painter one of his 
faithful critics, was also found here. 

In Brittany, the land of sunrise so much admired by 
continental artists, he found those quaint people and 
picturesque scenes which so happily adorn his studio at 
Fryeburg, upon the storied Saco. Coming back to his 
native state — he was born in Bath, Me., the son of George 
E. Newman, the well-known publisher — Mr. Newman 
could not have chosen a happier spot for the accomplish- 
ment of his work. The approach to his studio, which is of 
itself the touch of an artist, is under the overhanging arms 
of lofty elms bordering the lane leading from the main 
street, and on the brink of the natural terrace upon which 
the historic village stands. To the north and west stretch 
the intervale across which the Saco winds its way, while 



fwvr^wr** f 

*.* ft 



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"7 ' . M$ 

m 1 1 1 

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AA'-^aa^c.!.-. ^i^iilLkaL.-- ^^:^-.i^i* 


old Kearsarge looms like a sentinel just beyond, with the 
mountains of the Snowy Forehead forming the perspec- 
tive in the distance. 

The interior of his studio is fitted up plainly with soft- 
tinted steel walls, the exterior being shingled and stained 
in green. Our picture can give but a faint conception of 
the delightful results of the arrangement speaking in 
unmistakable language of the grace and happy conception 
of a mind trained in the lofty ideals of his work. Mr. 
Newman's "Lunch a la Britaigne in Britaigne," of which 
we are pleased to give a reproduction in half-tone, received 
admission at the Paris Salon of 1887. This oil painting 
is now in the Fryeburg library. It is painted in subdued 
atmospheric grays and browns, relieved here and there by 
the scarlet of some one's raiment and the play of the sun- 
shine upon the scene. "The Soap-Makers," which we 
gave in our last number as the first of our series of Char- 
acter Sketches, is another happy specimen of his work. 
It is the custom of Mr. Newman to centralize the interest 
of his painting upon some particular interest in his subject, 
and never has he done this more successfully than in the 
two paintings mentioned here. Among the specimens of 
his work in his studio is the painting of Mrs. Newman and 
their son, Max, since grown to man's estate. 

Maine has reason to be proud of this artist, who has 
lived and painted in his chosen retreat among the hills of 
West Oxford county for twenty years or more. Starting 
with simple studies in charcoal and crayon, the man has 
reason to take pride in the accomplishments which have 
crowned his earnest efforts. 

It is a sad reflection upon the tenor of the times that 
a man of his talents must pause in the midst of his work 
and say, "There is no money in it, and one must live." 
For five years he has been teaching art in the Fryeburg 
Academy, carrying into this field the enthusiasm and 
energy which has marked his whole career, and which still 
impells him to devote all of his available time to painting 
the scenic beauties of his environments. 


The personal influence of Mr. Newman, primarily as a 
man and secondly as an artist of tact, enthusiasm and judg- 
ment to make him a successful teacher, is widely felt and 
is like the mountain streams from the hills beyond his 
studio, that start so quietly amid pure and lofty sources to 
slowly find their way down into the world of men benefi- 
cent in influence and of incalculable value. So, indeed, 
the lives touched by this man in his retreat upon the 
borders of two states in these late years have borne and 
will continue to bear the good fruit as evidence of his faith- 
ful work. 

Cfjocorua on a 3fltu> ^tgfct 

By C. E. Whiton Stone 

Heavy across thine unbared forehead lies 
The lifeless air, and stars that o'er thee shine 
Are dim with haze, that blurs the horizon line 
Like smoke of unchecked fire: — Upon the skies 
The full moon swoons, and every leaf and vine 
Upon thine unstirred heart, seems worn as sign 
Death has o'ertaken thee in sleep's disguise? — 
Inscrutable thou liest wrapt in light; 
And while the pines like tapers lit, I see 
Shine on, unflickering through the breathless night 
Beside thy massive couch, it seems to me 
Who see beyond, how measureless the white 
Earth, too, is dead, and lying in state with thee. 

Cfje Wrestling M&cb 

An Old-Time Yarn 
By The Nestor of the Farms 

RAND FATHER in his last years had a peculiar 
habit of closing and opening his eyes when he was 

in deep thought, as if the light troubled them, 
but a merry twinkle would lighten them as if he became 
more deeply engrossed with his speculations, usually, as we 
boys came to know, when he was recalling some incident 
of his younger life. We were certain then that a story 
was upon his tongue, and it required no great skill to get 
him to tell it. We knew he had come to this state of 
mind when we overheard him exclaim: 

"Never shall I forgit it — never!" 

"Forget what, grandfather?" 

"How I lifted big Dan Danvers stiff heels. Didn't I 
ever tell you the story? Queer how fergitful I'm gitting to 
be. Why it seems only yesterday the Narrers folks got 
done talking about it. You fill my pipe, boys, and 'tween 
the whiffs I'll tell the yarn. 

"You see there had been bad blood 'tween the Narrers 
boys and the Catamount boys for more'n a year, on account 
of a dispute as to who was best at lifting stiff heels. We 
had been at it, off and on, for two years without coming 
any nearer to a settlement than at first. We had choosed 
sides and paired to a man, but we always came out about 
six and half a dozen. Then, each party elected a man to 
be their champion, and I was voted in uninimously. 

"They choose a long-legged shoemaker from Leathers- 
town and came up to the Narrers with him, but I lifted 
him two times out of three, and everybody claimed I would 
have done it again if the rabbit hadn't sprung, as we called 



it Soon after that the Danvers moved over to the Cata- 
mount neighborhood, when they said they had got a 
champion who would be too much for me. 

"We soon learned that he was big Dan Danvers, who 
stood a whole head above me, but as big a lubber as ever 
climbed old Catamount; and this was the way affairs stood 
when Uncle Josh gave out word that he was going to have 
the boss husking bee of the season. 

"Well, Josh put out his invites and the folks poured in 
from every direction till there wern't benches for them all 
sit down. 'Mong the rest was a crowd from Catamount, 
led by big Dan Danvers. 

"How time flew off on wings! Red ears were plenty, 
and I see one red ear that didn't have any husks on it 
either, and that was when Suke Blake up and kissed Seth 
Porter kerslap on the side of the face. Seth, I'll warrant, 
had never been kissed before in his life. 

"Now I could see all the time that Danvers was watch- 
ing me, and sort of sizing me up in his mind. I heard him 
say to a friend near by: 

" 'Fudge! I can throw him over my head with one 

"I weren't half as heavy as the big, hulking chap, but 
I was built right down to work, and three years in a black- 
smith shop had given my arms ribs of steel. I had sized 
up my man, and I didn't lose time in doing it either. 

"By half-past nine the corn was all husked out and the 
crowd started for the house, as merry as a minstrel band, 
the boys tripping each other up or chasing the girls. 

" 'Look here, Josh Hill,' said Rob Stevens, 'I reckon 
'em air beans will keep a little longer, and I know we Cata- 
mount boys will be in better condition to do 'em justice if 
we see Dan here hist that little bantam crower of yourn 
off'n his back a few times. We air ready to put up our 
money on it.' 

"I could see that Uncle Josh was touched by that term 
'bantam crower' as much as I was, and he spoke up pretty 
sharp as he said: 






*' 'Reckon I shan't be any the loser if you do get your 

appetites dulled a bit. That little bantam of ours is always 

ready to eat a man before supper and then have a good 

appetite left. Trot out your big Whitten calf.' 

"The Catamount boys tried to laugh off this sally, but 
I could see that they were considerably riled, and big Dan 

"'I stump your man, big or little, to try a bout with 
me, and if I don't hist him every time I'll eat him for my 

"'Dunno *s 'em tarms are just what he'd agree to do 
by you,' replied Uncle Josh, 'but I'll guarantee he'll make 
jelly out'n you for some man-eating quadruped. Remem- 
ber it is to be the best two in three. Come down to the 
lower side of the yard where the ground is level and 

"Big Dan Danvers, swelling up so he looked twice his 
natural size, led the way, followed by the Catamount boys, 
and next to 'em went the Narrers boys, Uncle Josh leading 
and I in the rear. I tell you it was beginning to be an 
exciting time. Why, the women all come out of the house, 
every soul of them; and Aunt Belindy, she got so excited 
she let the big Injun puddin' burn at the bottom and one 
whole pot of beans was crisped to a cinder. 

"'Pick out your place where you want to lay,' called 
big Dan Danvers to me, 'and then pick out another where 
you want to fall. Mind you it ain't too near, ye little 

" 'One at a time,' says I, sort of cool, as if I weren't 
scared at his bluster. Then I stretched myself on the 
gronnd. When Dan Danvers stepped over me you could 
have heard a pin drop on the grass, it was so still. Big 
Dan pushed his hands under me, and I felt him give me a 
tremendous tug; when I suppose he expected to see me rise 
into the air like a toy balloon, but I managed to stick to 
the earth as if it was a big coat plaster stuck to my back. 
How he lifted and tugged and strained till his face was as 



red as our old wagon shed. I could see by the lantern 
light his eyes bulge out so I could have hung my hat on 
one of 'em. But I didn't budge a hair, but laid there as if 
glued to the ground. My father had told me the trick, and 
I was a good pupil. At last, finding he couldn't wink me, 
big Dan give up. He was that winded he had to. 

"How the Narrers boys hollered, while the Cata- 
mounters looked a glum as punkins. 

"'Bah!' sputtered Dan. as soon as he had got his 
breath. 'The game ain't over. He ain't lifted me yet.' 

"Then the big hulk laid down on the ground, and I 
could see that he didn't have the knack of clinching to the 
dirt. I knew the Catamounters felt I had found more than 
my match, but the Narrers boys cheered me when I bent 
over the critter. Now you most naturally think I'm slow 
motioned, but when it comes to lifting stiff heels it's the 
quick, short snap that fixes the other fellow. And no 
sooner had I straddled that big Dan than I fetched that 
twist of mine which lifted him into the air as straight as a 

"It seemed as if everybody was too surprised to holler, 
and Jim Lock jest managed to say: 

"'What a s'prising knack Little John has at lifting 
. stiff heels!' 

"'I stump vou to do that again!' cried big Dan excit- 

" 'Down with you,' says I. 

"No sooner said than he dropped, and no sooner had 
he dropped than he riz like a mountain, when every soul at 
the Narrers yelled with joy. 

" ' 'Tweren't fair!' yelled Dan Danvers, as soon as he 
could make himself heard. 'A burdock bur got under me. 
It must be tried again.' 

"Mebbe I weren't mad, for you see I had won the 
game fairly, but I didn't let on, just p'inted tothe ground, 
as much as to say 'Lay down, you great lummux!' 

"He did drop down kerflop, and stiffened in his clumsy 
way. But I didn't wait for any fancy work before I had 


my hands under him. Then I gave one quick retch— a 
knack I had— when big Dan Danvers riz into the air like a 
hay-stack, and I sent him flying over a near-by fence into 
a hog-yard on the other side! 

"'Three times and out!" yelled the boys. 'Now are 
you Catamounters satisfied?' and you never see such 
excitement as follered. Uncle Josh got so wild over the 
great victory that he run round the yard like a fox, stump- 
ing every one he met to a bout, while the boys shouted 
and the girls laughed nigh to killing. Them are the main 
p'ints in the big lifting at stiff heels match, excepting that 
Dan Danvers and his crowd were so flustered that they 
went home without any supper." 

His story finished grandfather took his pipe, and 
crossing his legs, as he complacently took in the fumes of 
the tobacco, he pictured in the lazy wreaths of smoke that 
scene of triumph in the days long since fled, his time- 
travelled features relaxing and a look of joy dancing in his 
eyes, as the picture was vivified with life. 

Qfyt <®ltr fKonter 

By Sam Walter Foss 

In summer I poke roun' out doors 

An' kinder help to do the chores; 

I try to be some little good 

An' chop an' fetch the kindlin' wood; 

I judge a man shall still be brave, 

Long as he keeps outside the grave, 

And do his work, however small, 
An' poke about till he sinks down 

An' darkness comes an' covers all — 
An' so I poke an' putter roun'. 



This tremblin' han', these shakin' bones 
Once cleared these fiel's er trees an' stones: 
This han' it pressed my young bride's han' 
An' lead her through this unknown Ian'. 
The wolf an' bear prowled roun' our door, 
But we wuz happy, young an 7 poor. 
But thet dear han' in simple trust 

No more in mine shall settle down, 
Long years thet han' hez mixed with dust — 

But still I poke an' putter roun'. 

The woods is cleared, the swamps is sweet 

With wavin' fiel's of grass an' wheat. 

The lonesome woods hez all made room 

To let the pear and apple bloom. 

An' where wuz once the wild wolf's den 

Is happy homes er happy men. 

But the ol* man who led the way 

An' cut them dark ol' forests down, 
Now sundown shadders cloud his day, 

Can only poke an* putter roun'. 

Twas here we passed life's early morn, 
Twas here our boys an' girls wuz born, 
She learned their baby feet to stray 
Through the rough forest's tangled way. 
The girls now fair as she was then, 
The boys growed up to strappin' men, 
Fergit the pathway to her grave, 

But I can keep the strong weeds down, 
An' flowers above her dust shall wave 

Wile I can poke an' putter roun" 

The great worl' moves so fast, today, 
It leaves an ol' man by the way, 
Fergets the work that he has done 
An' all the toil beneath the sun; 
An' all its voices seem to say: 
"Stan' back ol' man, keep out the way." 
I hear the voices' cruel roar, 

I go; the night is settlin' down, 
An' p'raps they'll miss me w'en no more 

The ol' man pokes an' putters roun" 

$eto ^ampsfinre at l©asf)tngton 

By A Staff Contributor 


SHREWD observer has said that the smaller states 
of our union have sent stronger men to congress 
than those larger in area and population, and then 
cites as proof New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Dela- 
ware. Whether this statement will bear the light of inves- 
tigation or not, it is certain that the Granite State has 
made a record of which her citizens may well feel proud. 
In the beginning, at the federal convention in 1787, which 
formulated a constitution for the new government, New 
Hampshire was ably represented by John Langdon and 
Nicholas Gilman. Both of these men were elected to the 
incoming congress, our first senators being John Langdon 
and Paine Wingate, while the first representatives were 
Nicholas Gilman, Samuel Livermore and Abiel Foster. 
Such men as these were succeeded by others as able all 
through the trying years of formative government. 

In the Days of Jacksonian Democracy, through her 
able son Isaac Hill and his associates, New Hampshire held 
important sway with the powers at the national capital. 
During that exciting period and scenes that followed, the 
Granite State was represented in the administration at 
Washington by such natives, some of whom were then 
dwelling in other localities, as Lewis Cass, secretary of war, 
l &$i to 1833; Levi Woodbury, secretary of the navy, 1831- 
l &33f and associate justice of the Superior Court in 1845; 
Amos Kendall, postmaster-general, 1835-1837; Nathan 
Clifford, attorney-general in 1846 and appointed to the 
supreme court in 1857; in congress during much of this 
stormy period were James Wilson, the matchless orator, 
^nd her greatest son, Daniel Webster. In the years of the 



declining supremacy of the Democratic regime, New 
Hampshire gave each of the rival political factions a 
leader of national reputation and prestige, Franklin Pierce 
and John P. Hale. 

A glance along the political lines of these times shows 
that New Hampshire was scarcely less important a factor 
in president making than New York and Ohio have since 
become. For at least twelve years th* little state "up 
north" miy be said to have shaped the policy and given 
the leaders, while for as many years more she had a son at 
the head of the national ticket. First, in 1848, Lewis W. 
Cass was the nominee of the Democratic party and barely 
missed securing the high office. Daniel Webster came so 
near gaining the nomination that it was at first announced 
that he had been given the honor. Levi Woodbury was 
under serious consideration and probably would have 
received the nomination and the election but for his death 
a short time before the convention. John P. Hale was 
placed at the head of the Free Soil ticket at this time- 
1852. It was left to another New Hampshire son, Gen. 
Franklin Pierce, to win the golden prize. This period 
brought to the front two others with presidential possibil- 
ities, Salmon P. Chase and Horace Greeley. The first of 
these barely missed gaining the prize in i860, 1864, and 
again in 1868, and if he lost the temper of the movement 
in his- favor was far-reaching and beneficial in its results. 
In 1872, another New Hampshire representative led the 
forlorn hope of the Independent Republicans, when it 
meant something to be independent, and the bewildered 
Democracy. Henry Wilson was another potent factor in 
presidential possibilities, when he was stopped in that 
direction by being made vice-president under Grant, and 
only his death made impossible the ultimate success of his 
ambition. The Chandlers, Zachariah and W 7 illiam E., both 
in the cabinet and as presidential-makers, deserve mention. 
while there are others, easily recalled, who have been 
among the foremost in political, financial and military 
matters at Washington. 










- « 

^^tf ^rfiigM-ViiVfr Ttfenr iW ; *H 

I >S£^ 



It is well to keep the fact in mind that no state in the 
Union has, all periods considered, exercised greater, if as 
great, influence and statesmanship at the national capital 
as New Hampshire. This proud distinction has been 
gained in spite of the custom of cutting short the careers 
of her men at Washington with two terms. Senator 
Chandler was the first to pass the limit, while our present 
senior senator, Jacob H. Gallinger, has been honored with 
three full terms, and our senior representative, Cyrus A. 
Sulloway, yas been elected to the house for the fifth term. 
These facts speak in highest praise of the men and of the 
good judgment of their constituents. Other states, nota- 
bly Maine and Massachusetts in New England, have 
thought it wise to continue their congressmen in office for 
long periods when they have been found useful and faith- 
ful. The experience of long service certainly gives a 
prestige and potency to the work of a legislator that he 
could not command in a limited time. 

United States Senator Jacob H. Gallinger was born 
in Cornwall, Ont., March 28, 1837, a descendant, on his 
paternal side, of a great-grandfather who emigrated from 
Holland to New York before the Revolutionary War, where 
his grandfather was born, but removed to Canada. His 
mother was of American ancestry. With the limited 
advantages he received at home, he persevered with untir- 
ing energy in whatever branch of education or vocation 
that he undertook, crowding into his life an abundance of 
hard work, which is the real secret of all success. As a 
youth he was a printer, editor and publisher, taking up the 
study of medicine while at the case. In 1858 he graduated 
at the head of his class from the Cincinnati Medical School. 
He then spent three years in study and travel abroad. 
After a brief practice of medicine in Keene, N. H., he 
settled in Concord, which he has made his legal residence 
ever since. As a physician, he displayed signal ability and 
soon built up a lucrative practice, but in the midst of this 
success he was attracted to political affairs and was elected 





to the state legislature in 1872-73, and in 1876 he was 
chosen to the constitutional convention. In 1891 he was 
again elected to the state legislature. He was a member 
of the state senate in 1878, 1879 and 1880, being president 
of that body the last two years. During these years he 
was surgeon-general of New Hampshire with the rank of 
brigadier-general. In 1885 he received honorary degree of 
Master of Arts from Dartmouth College. 

Elsewhere some of the political positions he has held 
have been briefly described, but we wish more particularly 
here to mention his service at Washington. He was 
elected to the forty-ninth and fiftieth congresses and 
declined a re-nomination to the fifty-first congress. He 
was elected United States senator to succeed Henry YV. 
Blair, and took his seat March 4, 1891. At the expiration 
of this term in 1897, ^ e vvas re-elected by a unanimous 
vote of the Republican members of the legislature and the 
votes of five Democratic members. In 1903 he was again 
re-elected to the senate by the unanimous vote of the 
Republicans and three Democratic members of the legis- 
lature, the first time in the history of the state that any 
one had been elected United States senator for three full 

As a member of the senate he has been particularly 
active and influential. He was chairman of the Merchant 
Marine Commission of 1904-1905, composed of five sena- 
tors and five representatives in congress. He is chairman 
of the Committee on the District of Columbia, an impor- 
tant office, and member of three other leading committees 
of the senate, Appropriations, Commerce and Naval 
Affairs. There has been no more faithful worker than 
Senator Gallinger, and his long career in congress has 
given him an honorable record. His term will expire 
March 3, 1909. 

Of English ancestry, United States Senator Henry E. 
Burnham was born in Dunbarton, November 8, 1*44, and 
his boyhood was passed upon his father's farm. His com- 



J s 




¥ J 








mon school education was rounded out by a course at 
Kimball Union Academy, Meriden, where he was fitted for 
college at the age of seventeen. He graduated from Dart- 
mouth in the class of 1S65, already giving promise of the 
high forensic attainments he was to achieve. It was 
natural that a mind of his legal acumen should seek the 
law as his future field of action, and soon after leaving col- 
lege he entered the office of Minot & Mugridge, at Con- 
cord, finishing his studies with Edward S. Cutter of Nashua 
and Judge Lewis W. Clark of Manchester. He was 
admitted to the bar in April, 1868, and soon after opened 
an office in Manchester. 

He was successful in his chosen profession from the 
outset and, through close application to business, strict 
integrity to his clients, and sagacity as a lawyer, he soon 
acquired a wide clientage, which continued to grow year 
by year. In 1876 he was made judge of probate for Hills- 
borough county, but after holding this position for three 
years he resigned to give his entire time to his increasing 
private practice. He had already shown a deep interest in 
political affairs, and his ability as a speaker naturally called 
him among the active workers of his party. Recognition 
of his service here was given in 1873, when he was elected 
as a representative to the state legislature, and re-elected 
in 1874. In 1889 he was a member of the Constitutional 
Convention, and in 1900 he was elected to the legislature. 
At this time his friends felt that he deserved a wider 
acknowledgment of his gifts as a lawyer, orator and legis- 
lator. He was placed in nomination as United States sen- 
ator, though opposed by men older and more deeply versed 
in the artifices of the politician. He was elected and took 
his seat on the 4th of March, 1901, and he is now serving 
his second term. 

He is chairman of the Committee on Cuban Relations 
and a member of five other committees: Agriculture and 
Forestry, Claims, Forest Reservations and the Protection 
of Game, Pensions, and Territories. In connection with 





the last-named subject, his comprehensive speech in the 
senate, during the debate relative to the admission of 
Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Indian Territory, 
was a masterly effort. It will be seen by the lists given 
that the senators from New Hampshire have been called 
upon to act on important committees, and their voices 
have ever been heard when the interests of their constit- 
uents demanded it. 

Like the majority of our representative men, Cyrus 
A. Sulloway, United States representative, was a farmer's 
boy, and his boyhood days were passed at the old home- 
stead in Grafton, where he still finds greater pleasure in 
visiting at intervals than in the activities of his successful 
career as a lawyer, politician and congressman for the long- 
est period that has fallen to the fortune of a United States 
representative from this state. Upon completing bis 
academical course at New London, he began his life work 
in i86r, when he entered the law office of Pike & Barnard 
at Franklin. Two years later he was admitted to practice 
and immediately located himself in Manchester, where he 
believed the strongest inducements awaited the young 
lawyer. For ten years he was associated with Samuel D. 
Lord, and following the close of this term he entered into 
a successful partnership with E. M. Topliff, and the firm of 
Sulloway & Topliff soon became known as one of the 
strongest in the state. 

His career as a politician of national reputation began 
in 1894, when he was placed in nomination for congress in 
the First District by the Republican party. Already a pic- 
turesque figure in politics, he won out by the handsome 
plurality of over six thousand. This was nearly doubled 
two years later. In 1900 he secured his third victory, over 
Edgar J. Knowlton, the popular nominee of the Demo- 
cratic party. Since then he has met with no concerted 
opposition. This permanent fidelity of his constituents, 
coupled with his ability, honesty and earnest purpose 
has secured for him the confidence and praise that comes 



from long and consistent effort. New Hampshire has fre- 
quently made the mistake of cutting short the national 
career of some worthy son, not only robbing him of the 
merited success that comes only seldom, except by success- 
sive terms to that office which leads to the heights of 
power by the way of experience, but has lessened her own 
power in national affairs. The state has made no mistake 
with Mr. Sul lo way, and the result has showed that the 
trust was not betrayed. In him the country has found an 
industrious, intelligent worker. As chairman of the Com 
mittee on Invalid Pensions, he has won the confidence and 
respect of all, while giving the soldier a friend at court that 
he has not found in another. , 

Frank Dunklee Currier, United States representative, 
Second District, was born in Canaan, October 30, 1853, 
and is consquently in the prime of an active and brilliant 
career. He was educated in the public schools of his 
native town and a graduate of Kimball Union Academy, 
Meriden. He began the study of law in the office of Pike 
& Blodgett at Franklin, but completed his course in 1874, 
under George VV. Murray of Canaan, and was admitted to 
the Grafton county bar that year. He at once opened an 
office in Canaan, where he succeeded in building up a lucra- 
tive practice. But early in his legal career he evinced a 
keen interest and aptitude for political affairs, and in 1879 
was elected to the state legislature. He was clerk of the 
senate in 1883, an d in 1886 was elected to that body, being 
chosen president for the session of 1887. He was a dele- 
gate to the Republican National Convention in 1884, which 
nominated Benjamin Harrison for president. The latter 
appointed him naval officer of customs for the district of 
Boston and Charlestown, and he held that office from 1890 
to 1894. He received the honorary degree of Master of 
Arts from Dartmouth College in 1891. He was elected to 
the house of representatives in 1904 and re-elected in 1906. 

A graceful and eloquent speaker, a keen, incisive logi- 
cian, showing marked ability and brilliant qualities as an 


official and legislator not less than as a lawyer, his selec- 
tion as representative to congress from the second dis- 
trict was amply merited, and he has shown himself worth v 
of the trust and honor. He is chairman of the Committee 
on Patents and a member of the Committee on Accounts. 
Mr. Currier is a Mason, a member of St. Andrew's Royal 
Arch Chapter and of Sullivan Commandery, Knights 


By L. J. H. Frost 

O the glory of the sunset 

When the west is all aflame: 
And the radiance on the hilltops 

Seems to write Jehovah's name. 
When the clouds of gold and purple 

Appear to mortal eyes 
like a gleam of the effulgence 

That illumines Paradise. 

Then our longing spirits linger 

At the glowing western bars, 
Until evening drops her curtain, 

And lights her brilliant stars. 
Then the turmoil of our spirits 

Is calmed to peaceful rest, 
By the majestic radiance 

That glorifies the west. 

And we seem to see a vision 

Of our home that is to be; 
Within the nightless city, 

Beside the crystal sea. 
While we think we hear the echo 

Of the angel's song of love, 
Trembling through the distant vistas 

From the great white throne above. 

$eto If ampsljtre'S Relegates to tije 
Chicago Contention 

By A Staff Contributor 

£jTlF WE are a democratic government, "of the people, 
^JJ by the people and for the people," it cannot be said 
that we hide our light under a bushel in the array 
of political forces and the sounding of the call to the con- 
test of an election. It is evident that the people desire, to 
a considerable number — probably a majority — this noise, 
parade, confusion and bustle. Behind the pirtisan guns 
stand the yeomanry of the ballot that flatters itself it is 
greater than the power it has placed upon the throne. It 
may be wise not to dispel the illusion. 

Beginning in the local ward room, where the budding 
politician receives his first lesson in the subtle work of sup- 
porting the principles of his partisan affiliation, the next 
stage of action is the state convention, where the flower of 
the particular party meeting at that time is certain to be 
found. In the little army of office-seekers and office- 
makers are to be met not only the youthful adherents of city 
and borough, but the gray-haired veterans of many cam- 
paigns, who feel themselves the rod of power slipping away 
into younger if not worthier hands. Here the manufac- 
turer and the farmer, the lawyer and the business man, the 
shrewd party worker and the unsophisticated member, 
neither so wicked or innocent as he appears, meet and 
shake hands, to join in the efforts and interest of political 
harmony or prepare to engage in a sturdy fight for what is 
believed to be a principle. 

The Republican State Convention, which convened at 
Concord, Tuesday, April 21, 1908, to choose delegates to 




the Republican National Convention at Chicago, was no 

exception to this rule. To a considerable extent the plan 
of procedure that was carried out had been previously 
mapped. Senator Jacob H. Gallinger, chairman of the 
Republican State Committee, called the meeting to order, 
and Secretary L. Ashton Thorp read the call. Ex-Gov- 
ernor John McLane was made permanent chairman with- 
out opposition. In the course of his address, Chairman 
McLane voiced the sentiment of the convention when he 

"We are to announce the principles and purposes of 
our party in a platform of resolutions, to select delegates 
who will voice our sentiments in the Republican National 
Convention to be held in Chicago next June. This is no 
place for dissensions, no forum for bickerings or domestic 
discord. The highest and greatest good for the party and 
the country should guide the judgment of every individual 
delegate and Republican and determine our concerted 

. At the close of Chairman McLane's eloquent address, 
the Committee on Credentials reported that of the 809 dele- 
gates entitled to seats in the convention 763 were present. 
A committee of five to nominate four alternates at large for 
the convention was selected, and then the platform was read 
by Col. Henry B. Quinby of Lakeport. Speech making was 
resumed, following which the platform was adopted. The 
convention chose by acclamation four delegates at large 
and four alternates, as follows: Delegates at large, Jacob 
H. Gallinger of Conccrd, Chester B. Jordan of Lancaster, 
Edwin G. Eastman of Exeter, Edwin F. Jones of Man- 
chester; alternates, George B. Leighton of Dublin, James 
L. Gibson of Conway, George H. Moses of Concord, W. 
Parker Straw of Manchester. 

At the close of the State Convention, the Second 
District Convention was called to order and United States 
Representative Frank D. Currier was made permament 
chairman. \V. D. Baker of Rumney was secretary. Of 



431 delegates entitled to seats, 424 were present. Lester 
F. Thurber of Nashua and Col. Seth M. Richards of Newport 
were chosen by acclamation as district delegates, and C. 
Gale Shedd of Keene and W. S. Thayer of Concord were 
chosen by acclamation as alternates. The platform adopted 
by the State Convention was ratified. 

PP* <7 ; - 


The First District Convention was held at the city 
hall, Manchester, Wednesday, April 22, and 313 of the 379 
delegates entitled to vote were present. William F. Har- 
rington of Manchester and Alfred F. Howard of Ports- 
mouth were chosen delegates by acclamation, with Perry 
H. Dow of Manchester and Arthur G. Whittemore of 
Dover as alternates. This convention also re-affirmed the 
platform adopted by the State Convention. The three 



conventions chose their delegates without instructions in 
regard to a choice for presidential nominee. 

For a sketch of Hon. Jacob A. Gallinger, first of the 
delegates at large, the reader is referred to an article upon 
"New Hampshire at Washington." Senator Gallinger has 
been a prominent figure in the political life of this state 
since he entered the political arena in 1872 by being made 






a member of the state legislature. At this early stage he 
showed the. natural tact and ability to lead that has so 
strongly marked his career. He was chairman of the 
Republican State Committee from 1882 to 1890, when he 
resigned the position but was again elected to the place in 
1898, re-elected in 1900, 1902, 1904, 1906, thus holding the 
position at the present time. He has been chosen as dele- 
gate to four National Conventions: Chairman of the dele- 



tion to Chicago in 1S88, when he made a speech seconding 
the nomination of Benjamin Harrison for president; chair- 
man of the delegation to Philadelphia in June, 1900, which 
convention nominated President McKinley; and headed 
the delegations from New Hampshire to Chicago in June, 
1904, and June, 1908. He was tor a time a member of the 
Republican National Committee. His selection as dele- 



gate at this time was eminently fitting to the party and A 
merited honor to him. 

Hon. Chester B. Jordan, the second on the list of 
delegates, was born in Colebrook, October 15, 1839, and 
was educated in the local schools and worked his way 
though Colebrook Academy and Kimball Union Academy 
at Meriden. In 1875 he- was admitted to the bar and for 



many years has been recognized as an able member of one 
of the strongest law firms in the state, Drew, Jordan & 
Buckley. In 1880 he was elected to the legislature, and 
again in 1881, serving then as its speaker with marked 
ability, In 1896 he was chosen to the senate and served 
as president with the same dignity and honor. In 1900 he 
was elected as chief magestrate of the state, his aclminis- 


: il 


'■■<■;■■■■' ■ .fog. ■*■■*;■■ 



tration as governor being a happy completement of his 
preparatory stages for that high office. Besides these, he 
has held many offices of trust and honor, always with the 
unswerving integrity and impartial action which has char- 
acterized his work, whether before the bar or in whatever 
position he has been called upon to fill. Acting upon the 
advice of his physician, who was fearful that the strain and 


fatigue of the journey and convention might be too severe 
a tax upon his bodily strength, he did not attend the con- 
vention, George H. Moses of Concord voting in his place. 

Attorney-General Edwin G. Eastman belongs to an old 
and distinguished family in New Hampshire. He was born 
in the town of Grantham, November 22, 1847, and his 
education in the common schools of his native town was 
continued by a course at Kimball Union Academy, follow- 
ing which he entered Dartmouth College, graduating in 
1874. Two years later he was admitted to the bar, and 
that year began the practice of law with Gen. Gilman 
Marston of Exeter. In 1876 he was elected as a repre- 
sentative from Grantham to the legislature. He was 
solicitor for Rockingham county from 1883 to 1887, and a 
member of the state senate in 1889. Upon the death of 
Daniel Barnard of Franklin, he was appointed attorney- 
general of the state, an office he still holds with sincere 
devotion to his duty and to the public. His selection as 
one of the "Big Four" at Chicago was an honest recogni- 
tion of the long and well-merited honors 

Edwin F. Jones was born in Manchester, April 19, 
1859, the son of Edwin R. and Mary A. (Farnham) Jones. 
He was educated in the public schools of his native city, 
and graduated from Dartmouth College in 1880. He 
studied law in the office of Judge David Cross, and was 
admitted to practice in 1883. He had already become 
prominent in politics, and in 1881 was made assistant clerk 
in the house of representatives, and promoted to the 
clerkship two years later. 

William F. Harrington, delegate from District No. 1, 
is a native of Manchester, N. H., and was educated in its 
public schools, graduating from the high school of this 
city. He is treasurer and general manager of the Ports- 
mouth Brewing Company, and is connected with various 
other business enterprises in and out of the state. He is 
a director of the Merchants' National Bank of this city, 
and is a strong type of our young business man. Believing 


in the principles of the Republican party, he has been an 
active and earnest worker where and when honest work 
was most needed. Plain and unostentatious, he is a young 
man who is likely to be heard from frequently. He was 
placed upon the committee, by the convention at Chicago, 
to notify the presidential nominee officially of his nomi- 

Col. Alfred F. Howard, second delegate from District 
No. i, was born in Marlow, where he enjoyed the advan- 
tages of country schools, graduated from Kimball Union 
Academy and studied law, having been admitted to the 
Sullivan county bar. Removing to Portsmouth soon after, 
he immediately identified himself with the business inter- 
ests of that city. For a number of years he has been sec- 
retary of the Granite State Fire Insurance Company, 
where he has shown a ready judgment and keen business 
foresight. He is a trustee in the Piscataqua Savings Bank, 
the Portsmouth Trust & Guarantee Company, and the 
New Hampshire National Bmk of that city. He is also 
chairman of the police commission and a member of the 
school board. A public spirited man, he has shown 
unswerving interest and ability in whatever position he has 
been called upon to fill. 

Lester F. Thurber, delegate from the Second Dis- 
trict, is a native of Nashua and a thorough-going young 
business man He is treasurer and business manager of 
the White Mountain Freezer Company, the largest enter- 
prise of its kind in the world. The business starting in 
Laconia in 1872 by Thomas Sands, upon being burned out 
in 1883, it was removed to Nashua. It is now an incorpo- 
rated company, with a paid-up capital of $100,000, employs 
250 hands, and has a monthly pay-roll of $7,000. It is, 
perhaps, needless to say that Mr. Thurber is a busy, hustling 
business man, and that whatever time he gives to politics 
is with high motives and a spirit that assures success. 

Col. Seth M. Richards, son of Hon. Dexter Richards, 
delegate from District No, 2, was born in Newport, N. H., 


June 6, 1850. He was educated in the schools of his 
native town and Kimball Union Academy, Meriden. He 
was in partnership with his father in the manufacture of 
flannels, and since the latter's decease has conducted the 
business alone. He has also business interests in Boston. 
He was town treasurer at the age of twenty-two; repre- 
sented the town in the state legislature in 1S85; on the 
staff of Governer Sawyer in 1887. Colonel Richards being 
unable to attend the convention, his place was filled by his 
alternate, Gen. \V. F. Thayer. 

The work of the convention at Chicago is too well 
known to need lengthy description here. The interest of 
the party was made predominant by the friends of the 
different aspirants for the high office at stake, and harmony 
prevailed through the deliberations. William H. Taft of 
Ohio was nominated upon the first ballot by a handsome 
majority, the result being as follows: Whole number of 
votes, 980; absent, 2; Roosevelt, 3; Foraker, 16; LaFol- 
lette, 25; Fairbanks, 40; Cannon, 61; Hughes, 6y, Knox, 
68; Taft, 702, and the nomination of the latter was made 

Wit of ^attfjeto Cfcornton 

By Gray Fairlee 

Tr%t%-ATTHE'W THORNTON was not only a ready 
4 I ^y, speaker in debate, but he had a native wit that 
S^ seldom failed him in case of an emergency. 

He was a physician of good repute, and also early became 
interested in public affairs. Settling in Londonderry in, 
or about, the year 1740, he represented that town in the 
Provincial Court in 1758-1760, and again in 1776. He was 
president of the Provincial Convention, which met May 17, 
1775, an d when the convention met on December 21, of 


the same year, and that body of patriots resolved itself 
into a house of representatives, he was a member. This 
body, the following September, chose him as a delegate to 
represent New Hampshire in congress, in which capacity 
he later signed that immortal document, the American 
Declaration of Independence. Twenty years later, while 
attending a session of the legislature at Amherst, he 
chanced to meet an ok} acquaintance, who was a repre- 
sentative from Londonderry, and was very glad to see him. 
During the conversation, this man, with apparent con- 
fidence in his own ability, said: 

"Don't you think, Judge, the General Court has 
reached a higher standard than it had at the time you 
attended? You know then there were not more than five 
or six who could talk, while now all we farmers can make 

Judge Thornton smiled and, with that merry twinkle 
to be seen in his blue eye when he said anything that car- 
ried an undercurrent of meaning, replied: 

"Let me tell you a story about a farmer who lived a 
short distance from my father's home in Ireland. He was 
an exemplary man in his observance of religious duties, 
and made it a constant practice to read a portion of the 
Scriptures every morning before asking the daily blessing. 
One morning he was reading the account of Samson's 
catching three hundred foxes, when he was interrupted by 
his wife, who said, 'John, I am sure that canna be true. 
Our Isaac is as good a fox hnnter as there is in the 
country, and he has na caught over twenty in a morning 
hunt.' 'Hoot, my gude woman, ye may ne'er take the 
Scripture just as it reads. It ne'er stands to reason, I 'low 
mesilf, that Samson caught the whole of three hundred 
foxes that morning, but we are to take the 'count in a 
gineral sinse. In th' three hundred critters he caught 
there may hev been eighteen or e'en twenty real foxes, 
whilst th' rist were no doubt skunks an' woodchucks." 

Judge Thornton's friend hastened to change the topic. 


iftetortc Cfubson 

By George Waldo Browne 

ANY of our smaller towns, which figure infre- 
quently in the affairs of public moment, have 
histories worthy of greater space in the written 
pages of our state than are accorded to them. Among 
these numbers the historic little hamlet of Hudson, over- 
looking the Merrimack, along one of the most delightful 
sections of this romantic river. 

Hudson comprises an area of about 18,000 acres of 
land, and is eight miles in length by three and one-half 
miles in width. The portion bordering upon the river is a 
verdant slope rising towards the middle of the town to 
rocky and rugged hills, with here and there productive soil. 
If the hillsides are somewhat difficult to cultivate, there 
are many excellent farms in the fertile valleys and the 
meadows fringing the east bank of the river. Fortunately 
Nature has made a wise provision for her unproductive 
acres and clothed them with forests quite as profitable as 
the richer regions. In fact, it would seem as if these 
sections were intended for such purposes, and to reserve 
them from the encroachments of men. 

The highest elevation of land in the town is Barrett's 
Hill, rising a little less than five hundred feet above the 
sea. Near the base of this hill lies Little Massabesic 
Pond, which covers about one hundred acres. Its outlet 
is a tributary of Beaver Brook, which rises in Derry and 
empties into the Merrimack River. Another body of 
water that deserves special mention is Otterneck, or 
"Tarnic," containing about forty acres of water, which 
finally reaches the Merrimack below Taylor's bridge by 
the brook of the same name. This stream has the credit 



of furnishing the power for the first mill built within the 
limits of the town, as early as 1710, or a little over eight 
years before the Scotch-Irish came to Nutfield, or the 
adventurous Horner penetrated into the solitude overhang- 
ing the primeval shores of Lake Massabesic in what is now 
Auburn. Musquash Pond, another Indian name and 
another pond deserving mention, completes the extent of 
water surface in Hudson. Its water power is thus limited, 
and no extensive manufacturing has added to the growth 
and wealth of the township. But if not favored itself 
directly in this direction, it has the good fortune to be in 
'close proximity to two enterprising manufacturing cities, 
Nashua just across the Merrimack and Lowell five miles 
below its southern boundary, Hudson in its gifts and its 
attractions is an agricultural town. The pioneers who 
penetrated its fastnesses sought to make homes for them- 
selves and their posterity. They were mainly of English 
ancestry, a sturdy, hardy race, whose progenitors had not 
long been in this country. As early as 17 10, the year the 
first saw-mill was built upon the Otterneck, Nathaniel and 
Henry Hills, brothers, settled upon what has since become 
known as the "Joseph Hills Farm." Here they raised the 
first garrison in this vicinity, and for twenty years the 
most northern outpost between the Massachusetts settle- 
ments and the French outposts on the north. This garri- 
son stood about twenty-five rods east of the Litchfield 
road, according to Mr. Kimball Webster, the historian of 
the town, upon land now owned by a descendant of the 
'original builder. It was here Capt. John Lovewell and his 
men passed the first night after leaving home, when upon 
his memorable march to the region of the Sokokis Indians, 
at whose hands he suffered so fearfully. 

Another early comer was Joseph Blodgett, who built 
a second garrison a little over two miles below the mouth 
of the Nashua River, and on the farm now owned by Philip 
J. Connell. The Blodgetts were of English descent, the 
first of that name having come over in the ship "Increase," 


in 1635. There are descendants of the family living in 
town . 

A third settler by the name of John Taylor erected 
another garrison standing between the Litchfield and 
Deny roads, and upon the Spalding farm. Among the 
settlers were the Fletchers, Perhams, Colburns, Spaldings, 
Butterfields, Richardsons, Snows, Cummings, Lovewells, 
Crosses, Adamses, Butlers, Underwoods, Moores, Ham- 
blets, Winns, Hassells, Proctors, Walkers, Harwoods, 
Baldwins, Wrights, and others, many of whom are repre- 
sented to-day by descendants. 

Like all of the lower towns in New Hampshire, Hud- 
son became mixed up in the boundary disputes, it being 
claimed by Londonderry grantees and those rival settlers 
in old Dunstable. January 4, 1733, it received its initial 
recognition as a township under the charter of "Notting- 
ham," which included "all the lands on the easterly side of 
Merrimack River belonging to the town of Dunstable," 
and extended about seventeen miles up the river. It 
held nearly all of the present town of Hudson, all of 
Tyngsboro on the east side of the Merrimack, one-third of 
Pelham and nearly all of Litchfield. To distinguish this 
township from another by the same name granted by 
New Hampshire, it was called "Nottingham-West." The 
boundary dispute being settled in 1741, the town was 
divided so that a part of it was in Massachusetts and the 
rest in New Hampshire. A charter was granted on July 
5, 1746, under the latter name, and the first town meeting 
under this charter was held at the house of Samuel 
Greeley, July 17, 1746, Zaccheus Love well acting as 

December 26, 1733, it was voted to build a meeting- 
house, the building located after considerable discussion 
and calculation "on land of Thomas Colburn, at a heap of 
stones this day laid up, not far from Colburn's southerly 
dam." Mr. Kimball Webster, to whom I am indebted for 
most of my information, says the "exact location of this 


fflSTORrc HCTrSO 3T 

meeting-house is- not known, but it stood on the east side 
of the road,, as then travelled, north of Musquash Brook r 
probably it stood between the house of Nathaniel Merrill! 

.^' K 





ml i 


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1 < 
I » 

and the stream." What was known as the Hills Farm 
meeting-house, which stood near the southern boundary of 
Litchfield, was built about 1748. 

It was not until July 12, 1818, that a post-office was 



<cstablis"hed at the Centre, and Reuben Greeley was made 
postmaster. Previous' to that time mail matter directed 
to Nottingham West was sent to Litchfield. The name of 
this office was changed to Hudson 5 une V> 1*831, but Sep- 
tember 2.1, 1S68, the name was permanently affixed to the 
•office which had been established at Taylor's bridge, and 
the first office became styled Hudson Centre. This was 
officially sanctioned November f, [876, 


to -M 






Until 1827 there had been no bridge across the Merri- 
mack above Lowell and below Amoskeag, but the year 
before a charter was granted to the citizens of Nottingham 
West and Nashua for a toll bridge across the the river* 
known as the Taylor's Falls Bridge. This was completed 
and opened in 1827. Before this people had been obliged 
to cross and recross the river by ferrys, there having been 



three in town: Kelly's Ferry, later known as Dutton's and 
then as Hamblet's, at the point where the new bridge was 
built; Hill's Ferry, about two miles above this, and Hardy's 
Ferry, three miles below. Toll continued to be charged at 
Taylor's Falls bridge until 1855, when a county road was 
laid out over it and it was made free. 

The church record compares favorably with that of 
other towns, the ordination of the first minister, Nathaniel 


Merrill, taking place as early as November 30, 1737. He 
seems to have been in active service for nearly sixty years. 
He was a graduate of Harvard College in 1732, and died 
in 1796. He built a house near the meeting-house, where 
he lived, and it is said that an aged elm is standing now 
that was planted by him. A considerable number of 
Presbyterians who had settled in that part of the town at 



one time belonging to Londonderry organized a church of 
that denomination, probably about 1769 or 1770, the 
records .having been lost. These people objected to paying 
the minister's tax, as voted by the town, to help the Con- 
gregational church, which occasioned some friction and 
later bitter animosities. It became more and more diffi- 
cult to collect the taxes voted by the town, until finally the 
church and state were separated. Besides the Congrega- 




tional and Presbyterian denominations already mentioned, 
the Baptists and Methodists have both been active in pro- 
moting the religious welfare of the churches. 

Descendants of the men who fought under the Tyngs 
and Lovewells of pioneer days, the inhabitants of Hudson 
have ever been faithful to the cause of their country. Not 
less than twenty served in the French and Indian War, 
and when it came to the breaking out of the Revolu- 
tionary War, every man in town, with one exception, sub- 
scribed to the following: test oath: 



We, the subscribers, do hereby solemnly engage and promise that vre 
will, to the utmost of our power, at the risque of our lives and fortunes, 
with arms oppose the Hostile Proceedings of the British Fleets and 
armies against the United American Colonies. 

Capt. Joseph Kelley, inn-keeper and owner of the 
ferry across the Merrimack at Taylor's Falls, refused to 
sign the paper, and consequently was soon after obliged to 
leave town. He removed to Wentworth, where it is said 
he died a pauper. 

Kiiift A>-aU 



The patriotism displayed at the outset continued to the 
close of the long and sanguinary struggle, Hudson having 
soldiers in the battles of Bunker Hill, Bennington, Trenton, 
Princeton, Saratoga, and others. The provincial census of 
1775 credited Nottingham West with having twenty-two 
men in the American army. 

The repeated calls for men during the Civil War were 
answered promptly. The whole number of enlistments 
credited to the town was one hundred and thirty-five, and 
it was claimed that the town furnished twenty-one men 



more than had been called for. So all in all Hudson has a 
military history of which it should feel justly proud. 

As already stated and shown in its description, the 
chief occupation of the inhabitants of Hudson has been 
agriculture, and like all agricultural towns, its growth has 
been slow. The first census, taken in 1767, gave the popu- 
lation as 583, with two slaves; that of 1900 showed 1,261 
souls. It contained its greatest number of people in 18 10, 

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when there were 1,376 persons in town. The business and 
industrial scope is represented by Cummings Brothers and 
E. A. Martin, carriages; C. Melendy, boxes; three stores at 
the Bridge aad one at the Centre. 

One steam railroad, the Nashua & Rochester Division 
of the Portland & Worcester Railroad, passes through the 
town from Nashua, crossing the Merrimack about fifty-five 
rods below Taylor's Falls bridge. There is a station at 


Hudson Centre. Three lines of electric roads run through 
the town: The Manchester & Nashua; the Hudson, Pel- 
ham & Salem, connecting with Haverhill, Mass.; and the 
Nashua & Lowell. 

There are three churches of the following denomina- 
tions: Baptist, Congregational and Methodist. Societies 
are represented by the Hudson Grange, P. of H.; Hudson 
Lodge, I. O. O. F.; Echo Uebekah Lodge; Hudson Com- 
mandery, U. O. G. C. 

The present officers comprise John J. Baker, clerk and 
treasurer; James P. Howe, Philip J. Connell, George F. 
Blood, selectmen; George H, Abbott, representative. 

James P. Howe, chairman of the selectmen, was born 
in Bedford, N. H., October 6, 1844, the son of Thomas 
and Catherine '(Bullock) Howe. After a brief residence 
each in Bedford, Londonderry and Litchfield, attracted 
to a railroad life, he entered the employ of the Boston & 
Maine Railroad as switchman, and he changed his resi- 
dence to Nashua. After a few years' service in this 
capacity, he was made conductor of a "shifter," which posi- 
tion he held for fifteen years, when he was appointed yard- 
master, which position he still holds. Thus he will have 
served, if he lives until next February, for forty-five con- 
secutive years, a long and honorable career in one field. 

A few years since he moved to Hudson, and the 
towns-people recognized his sterling qualities by electing 
him to the board of selectmen in 1880-83, an d re-elected 
in 1902, where he has held the position of chairman since. 
In politics he is an earnest Democrat of the Jacksonian 

He is a member of St. George Commandery, Knights 
Templar, having been identified with this organization for 
twenty-five years. 

Mr. Howe was married July 12, 1869, to Esther P. 
Belknap, daughter of Andrew J. Belknap of Nashua. 
Three children have blessed this union: Andrew E., James 
G. and Esther Isabel, all of whom are living. The sons 


have followed the vocation of their father, both holding 
responsible positions in the employ of the Boston & Maine 

Philip J. Connell, the second member of the board of 
selectmen, is one of the best-known citizens in town. He 
lives on the "Old Pollard Farm," located upon the historic 
site of the second garrison in that vicinity, on the road 
leading to Lowell. It is a picturesque spot and bears 
every evidence of thrift and prosperity. Mr. Connell first 
served on the board in 1892 and 1893. In 1894 he was 
road commissioner. In 190 1 he was again elected to the 
office of selectman and has continued in service ever since. 
He represented the town in the state legislature of 1903- 
1904, serving upon the Committee on State College. This 
institution owes many of its excellent improvements to the 
committee of which Mr. Connell was an active member. 

He was born in Hudson, December 1, 1852, the son of 
Tobias and Mary (Hoffman) Connell. He was educated in 
the local schools, and upon leaving these began work in 
Lowell as a carpenter. He was married May 20, 1872, to 
Hannah E. Hardy of Hudson. They have three boys, 
Orrin H., Frank A., Harry J. Mr. Connell is highly 
respected by his townsmen. 

George Francis Blood, another of the board of select- 
men, is a native of Lyndeborough, N. H., the son of 
George H. and Helen M. (Burton) Blood. He was born 
March 22, i860, and when he was five years old his parents 
moved to Wilton, where he was educated in the town 
schools, to graduate from Phillips Exeter Academy in the 
class of '79. Mr. Blood moved to Nashua the year follow- 
ing his graduation, where he entered the employ of Gregg 
& Son, as clerk, and is still in their employ as paymaster. 
He was in the city council in 1890, 1891, and 1892, and was 
elected to the state legislature in 1894 for the term of 

In 1900 Mr. Blood moved to Hudson, and in 1903 he 
he was chosen to the board of selectmen, which position 


he has held ever since, this being his sixth year in that 
capacity, with his associates for the same period, Messrs. 
Howe and Connell. The popularity of this board of officers 
is proven by the fact that they have been retained in this 
office year after year in a community that is strongly Repub- 
lican while they are all ardent, though not partisan, Demo- 
crats. There are few instances of this kind to be found. 

He was married November 17, 1887, to Miss Dora P. 
Day of Essex, Vt. They have two children, boys, Perley 
Francis, a student at Brown's University, and Lester ! 
Anson. The family is most pleasantly situated in a happy 

Mr. Blood's only fraternal affiliation is with the Masons, 
he being a member of the Ancient York Lodge of Nashua, 
No. 89, Meridian Sun Royal Arch Chapter, and Israel 
Hunt Council. He also belongs to the New Hampshire 
Consistory, 32d grade. 

Bakers Bros., John J. and William W., proprietors of 
the grocery and general store at the Bridge village, are 
natives of Pembroke, who came to Hudson about twenty 
years ago. John J. was postmaster under the Cleveland 
administration, and has been town clerk eleven years, first 
for a period of three years and since for a term of eight 
years, still holding the office. Courteous and conscientious 
in his duties, we trust he will continue in this position for 
many years to come. 

Daniels & Gilbert, located in the corner grocery, where 
the post-office is now kept, are young men in the business, 
with an eye open to the welfare of their customers. 

The Greeley Public Library of Hudson has over three 
thousand volumes and is well patronized. It is to be hoped 
some public-spirited citizen or native of the town will build 
a home for this auxiliary to its educational advantages. 
Ina V. Martin is the present librarian 

Hudson has its police court, presided over by Judge 
George W. Clyde, a native of Dracut, Mass., the son of 
Samuel W. and Hannah (Boles) Clyde. The Clydes were 


among the first families in Windham, this state, and were 
active and respected members of colonial society. 

Judge Clyde was born October 23, 1865, and received 
his education from attendance at the Dean Academy, 
Franklin, Mass., two years at Tufts College, and the Law 
School of Boston University, from which he graduated in 
1894. He soon after opened a law office in Nashua, where 
he has a good clientage, but from the time he cast his first 
ballot in his adopted town he nas evinced a lively interest 
in its welfare. He was active and untiring in his efforts to 
secure the charter and building of the Manchester & 
Nashua Electric Railway, and he was one of the incorpo- 
rators of the Manchester & Derry Railway. Interested in 
educational matters, and made a member of the board of 
education, Judge Clyde has done much for the schools of 
Hudson. He has worked zealously for the Webster and 
Smith graded school buildings, and the educational ques- 
tion has always found in him an earnest and sagacious 
leader. He is president of the local Republican club. He 
was married February 19, 1902, to Miss Anna Bertha 
Wells of Manchester, formerly of Vermont. They have 
three children, Wilson W., Margaret E. and Priscilla E. 

Hudson has many citizens in public and private life 
who deserve special recognition did our space permit. 
Among these is Mr. Hiram Cummings, a descendant of 
one of the original pioneers of the town. With the excep- 
tion of about a dozen years that he lived in Lowell, he has 
resided in Hudson. He has been a successful contractor 
and builder, and it was only a short time since that he 
shingled the business building of his sons, which, consid- 
ering his age, was a remarkable feat. 

Mr. Cummings was married February 11, 1849, to Miss 
Abbie Clark, daughter of Jonathan Clark. Four children 
were born to them, Willis and Charles E., who now con- 
duct a prosperous business in Hudson, Anna M. and Helen 
A. Mr. Cummings has been a member of the Baptist 
church for many years, and has been its deacon for a 



long period. He has always had good health and been 
temperate in his habits. 

Another "Gentleman of the old school" is Mr. Daniel 
Merrill Greeley, the son of Reuben Greeley, and a descend- 
ant of one of the old families at the Centre. He was born 
the same year as Mr. Hiram Cummings, 1821, October 12, 
so he is only two weeks younger than the other. Mr. 
Greeley followed railroading for several years, after which 
he retired to his farm in Hudson. He was a member of 
the state legislature in 1869, and served upon the com- 
mittee of "The Fifteenth Amendment of the Constitution." 

He married Miss Jane Kenniston, who was born in 
1846, and died in May, 1905. One daughter blessed this 
union, and she married Mr. Nathaniel Wentworth, the 
well-known chairman of the Fish and Game Commission, 
whose beautiful home is located close by. Mr. Greeley's 
maternal grandfather was Daniel Merrill, a soldier in the 
Revolutionary War, for whom he was named. 

An air of restfulness and contentedness for work well 
done pervades the atmosphere of the little hamlet of Hud- 
son Centre, but once we have entered into the presence of 
life here we find there are active workers. One of these is 
most certainly that man of many places of trust, Mr. H. C. 
Brown, postmaster, station agent on the Worcester & 
Rochester Railroad, telephone manager, deputy sheriff. 
Mr. Brown was born in Delton, Wis., though his paternal 
ancestors were from this state, a great-great-grandfather 
having been among the grantees of Dartmouth. He was 
educated in the common schools of Michigan, and came to 
Nashua in the spring of 1882, to begin work for the 
Worcester & Nashua Railroad. He removed from Nashua 
to Hudson in 1896, when he received the appointment of 
station agent and postmaster, both of which positions he 
still holds. He was appointed deputy sheriff in 1904. 
Besides the offices mentioned, he has been tax collector 
and selectman. 

He was married in 1883 to Miss Clara J. Bryant, Iras- 
burg, Vt., and this worthy couple have one daughter, Ina 


L., who married Howard A. Andrews and lives in Lan- 
caster, Mass. 

No sketch of Hudson's representative citizens, how- 
ever brief, would be complete without mention of its 
Nestor of local history, Mr. Kimball Webster, though not 
a native of the town. He was born in Pelham, N. H., 
November 2, 1828, the son of John and Hannah (Cum- 
min gs) Webster, and was educated in the schools of that 
town and Hudson. Catching the "gold fever," when the 
wild stories of the discovery of that precious ore in Cali- 
fornia swept over New England, he started for the far land 
of the setting sun, making the trip overland in sLx months. 
His experience was similar to many others of that famous 
body of gold-seekers, "The Forty-Niners." After two 
years in the Sacramento Valley, in mining and various 
pursuits, he went to Oregon, where he was deputy-surveyor 
for the government. He returned east in the fall of 1854, 
though the next year he was in the employ of a railroad 
in Missouri. Since 1858 he has lived in Hudson upon the 
ancestral land of his great-grandfather, Eleazer Cummings, 
who settled there in 1728. 

Mr. Webster married, in 1857, Miss Abiah Cutter, 
daughter of Seth and Deborah (Gage) Cutter of Pelham. 
Their surviving children are six daughters: Lizzie Jane 
(Mrs. Horace A. Martin), Ella Frances (Mrs. Frank A. 
Walch), Eliza Ball (Mrs. Charles C. Leslie), Julia Ann and 
Mary Newton. 

Mr. Webster has been a stanch Democrat in politics, 
and though a leader in his party, has not been an office- 
seeker. He has been selectman for four years, and a jus- 
tice of the peace for almost half a century. He is a mem- 
ber of Rising Sun Lodge, F. and A. M., Hudson Com- 
mandery, United Order of the Golden Cross, and Patrons 
of Husbandry. In the latter order he has been very active, 
having been a charter member of the Hudson Grange, 
closely identified with the work of the county and state 
granges. He has ever shown marked interest in historical 


matters, and has prepared a large amount of material relat- 
ing to the history of Hudson and vicinity. The town 
needs a history written before it is too late to preserve 
much valuable data that will soon have passed away with 
its older citizens. Among its inhabitants, Mr. Webster is 
the one particularly adapted to the task, and I trust he will 
be secured to do the work while he is yet able to do it. 

In conclusion there is much more I would like to say 
of this grand old historic town, but space forbids. It has 
had an honorable record in the past, and with the bright 
and promising youth of the coming generation, upon whose 
shoulders will soon fall the mantle of its future, there 
seems every reason to think it will remain true to the 
exalted purpose of its founders. While it has no great 
water privileges, which have been the source of growth in 
many sections, still no one can say that its prospects are 
not bright. With its wise and conservative system of 
home government, its exceptional railroad facilities, its 
excellent supply of pure water, its beautiful panorama of 
surrounding country, its sunny slopes, its green-clad hills, 
its restful valleys, its thousand and one quiet charms that 
call hither the busy worker in his hours of surcease from 
toil, what Greenwich has been and is to New York, in pro- 
portion to the size of the situation, should Hudson be to 
Nashua and Lowell in the years that are to come. 

3* 3t TOortfj Wfyltl 

By Joaquin Miller 

Is it worth while that we jostle a brother 
Bearing his load on the rough road of life? 

Is it worth while that we jeer at each other 

In blackness of heart? — that we war to the knife? 
God pity us all in our pitiful strife. 

Cfje O&utor'S T©mfcoto 

Cfjorbafo'si <3rai« at 2?oar'g Cfeab 

The following brief resume of a subject treated more fully in this 
magazine a few months since, ''Norsemen in New Hampshire," is taken 
from an old number of The Portsmouth Times, and seems worthy of 
preservation here, as it concerns a matter that should be more carefully 
considered than it has been by students of our early history. — Editor. 

In 1892 the four hundredth anniversary of the dis- 
covery of America by Columbus was celebrated. But 
what about the discovery of America in the eleventh cen- 
tury, or five hundred years earlier, by the Norsemen, Leif 
and Thorvald? If these Norsemen discovered the coast of 
New England in the eleventh century, Christopher Colum- 
bus was not the original discoverer of America. It is said 
that the Norse Thorvald was buried near Boar's Head, in 
this state, and a sculptured stone has been found in that 
vicinity, which is supposed to mark the site of his grave. 
He was buried in 1004, he having died from the effects of 
a wound received in a conflict with the Indians. Boar's 
Head was at that time covered with a forest. Thorvald's 
voyage to this coast was four years after that of Leif, who 
was the original discoverer of this continent. Even Cape 
Cod was then a dense forest and not a sandy desert, as it 
is now, as barren and herbless as Sahara. 

Doubtless America was reached occasionally by wan- 
dering Phenician and Greek mariners, thousands of years 
before the Norsemen voyaged hither, but no record is pre- 
served of such voyages. In fact, Leif's discovery of this 
continent is the first historic discovery. But in the 
eleventh century Europe was in no condition to avail itself 
of the discovery of a new world. The old Greek and 
German civilization was then dead and the people of 


172 the editor's window 

northern and western Europe were in a state of feudal bar 
barism. But the fifteenth century was the century of the 
renascence, or the re-awakening of the human mind from 
the stupor of feudal superstition and ignorance. The 
European nations then began to feel the impulse of enter- 
prise and an enlightened curiosity, so the Genoese navi- 
gator's voyage had immediate results in the colonization of 
the new world, which he only re-discovered. But Colum- 
bus is a sublime character, and he is fully entitled to the 
grand place which he occupies in history. He was an 
unworldly enthusiast. The finest tribute to his memory is 
the life written by Irving. But it is a curious fact that the 
dust of one of the original discoverers of this continent 
probably lies buried on the coast of New Hampshire. 

a Pioneer Cratt 

A writer in "Willey's Book of Nutfield" relates the 
following incidents to illustrate the fact that thrift and 
sorrow did not seem to be necessarily incompatible in the 
days of the pioneers: 

"Among the early settlers of Nutfield was a very 
industrious woman, and her natural bent of character was 
shown at her husband's funeral. While the corpse was 
awaiting the rites of burial, she called out, impatient of 
delay: 'Hand me the spinning wheel, and I will draw a 
thread while the crowd arc gathering.' Just as philosoph- 
ical as she was Old Mellows, who lived north of the ceme- 
tery, on Graveyard Hill. His wife had gone on a visit to 
Beverly, and on returning in a rickety old chaise she was 
thrown out and her neck broken. At the funeral, two 
days later, the afflicted husband remarked that had it not 
been *for the little delay at Beverly, Betsey would be with 
us on this great occasion,' " 



! *^^t^5^ ;m£^?z& 















f» Ml 







)f unusual interest to book-sellers and book buyers alike is the announcement by the 
ihers of Louisa M. Alcott's works of a special edition, limited to 100,000 copies, of 
ost beloved story, "Little Women," at a popular price. This story was never more 
ar than it is to-day. In spite of the innumerable books for the young, "Little 
en" remains the favorite story of real child life. During the life of the author, 
1 T. Merrill, one of the best known of book illustrators, made over two hundred 
ngs for the book, which depict truthfully the scenes and incidents of the story, 
i illustrations appeared, together with a picture of the home of the "Little Women.'' 
andsome edition originally published at $5, and it is this edition which Little, Brown 
ipany will reissue early in July, with an attractive new cover design, at a low price. 

"Golden Nuggets" 

Choice Colle&ion of Prose and Poetry 

Compiled by cARDELLE 8N$)URSE 
Imall quarto; 84 pages; illustrated; price, 25 cents; sent postpaid 
lite State Pub. Co., 64 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H. 


X. H., by William Little. 
Octavo, cloth, illustrated, over 
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To subscribers of this magazine 
Mr. Little was a pains- 

have a limited number of the following books which we offer at special re- 
ns in price to subscribers to the Granite State Magazine. These books are new 
good condition, unless otherwise stated. Sent postpaid. 

LRYFIELD, now Manches- 
S. H., Vol. I, 1751-1782. I 
n, 1782-1800. Compiled 
edited by George Waldo 
me. Cloth, gilt top, oc- 
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and illustrations. Price 
each. These books are of ; 
: value to those interested , 
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taking historian and his History 
of Warren contains more infor- 
mation regarding the Indians 
of New Hampshire than any of 
its state histories. 

HAMPSHIRE. Alonzo J.Fogg. 
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ite State Pub. Co. 

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2L Otiarterlp Publication 

r [Copyrighted, 1908. J 

Vol. V JULY-SEPTEMBER, 1908 No. 3 


Terms:— Per Annum $1.50 

Single Copy 40 

To Authors. — The editor respectfully solicits contributions relating to state history, biography and legend 
from those who are in possession of any incidents or narrative of local or general interest. Any one not a regular 
writer, and not situated to put his notes into readable form, is requested to send the rough draft and we will under- 
take to put it into manuscript for the printer. Every article received will be carefully read and returned, if found 
- Address plainly: Editor Granite State Magazine, 

No. 64 Hanover Street, Manchester, N. H. 

Entered as second-class matter, December ax, 1905, at the post office at Manchester, New Hampshire, under 

the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. 

Printed by The Ruemely Press, <^g&Ss& 143 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H. 

,'.-.-* Contents 

Rip Van Winkle. (Illustrated Character Sketch) Nestor of the Farms 173 

General Joseph Cilley. (Portraits) .John Scales, A. B., A. M. 177 

The Vermont Grants Ovando D. Clough 1S5 

The Passing of the Bashaba. (Poem) Martha H. P. Abbott 191 

In Pioneer Days. (Illustrated) Anthor of " The Woodranger Tales" 193 

The Bride of the White Canoe. (Illustrated) Laconica 209 

Fifty Years of Textile Industry in New England. (Illustrated), 

A Staff Contributor 217 

Aime E. Boisvert. (Portrait) 225 

Reunion of the Twelfth Regiment. (Poem).......* Mary H. Wheeler 227 

Utterarp Ueabeg 


These popular articles by Prof. J. Warren Thyng are now issued in 
pamphlet form, and ready for delivery. No more beautiful publication 
relating to him who, if not a native, deserves much of the Granite 
State, has been published. Only a limited number has been printed. 
Sent postpaid for fifty cents. 


64 Hanover St. Manchester, N. H. 



Menotomy. A Romance of 1776. By Margaret L. Sears. Cloth, attractive cover 
rn; i2mo., 2j6 pages. Price, $1.50. Badger, Publisher, Boston. For sale in Manches" 
>y Goodman. 

Arlington in Massachusetts is the scene of her story, but under the old Revolutionary 
e of Menotomy. It takes up in detail the early events during the Revolutionary War, 

as Concord, Lexington aud the Battle of Bunker Hill. Do not think, however, that 
is a long drawn tale of history, for while it is an important book from this point of 
, it contains an admirably told love story. We understand Mrs. Sears has been a resi- 

of Arlington for many years, and she is thus able to write of a country of which she 
full knowledge. 

The Country Band. By Henry A. Shute. Pictorial cover, illustrated, i2mo. Price, 
>. Published by Richard G. Badger. 

Mr. Shute has written a book that will not only hold the undivided attention of the 
er, but will keep him in one burst of laughter all the way through. The title gives 
a pretty good idea of the story, for it is a biography of a band in a typical country 

Mr. Shute places himself in the book first as a youth with a strong craving for any- 

5 musical. He is adventurous and makes a try at anything that comes up, from play- 

ioIos at church socials to grasping the opportunity of marching with the band when on 

de. He has individual experience with about every instrument there is and some of 

>wn manufacture. He works up, however, to the top notch of musical excellence while 

ected with the band. 

The humorous incidents that are happening every minute are not in the least exagger- 

, but are decidedly true to life. 

Judge Shute wrote "The Real Diary of a Real Boy," and it was a success. We think 

The Country Band" will be a far greater one. If you are looking for something irre- 

Dly funny, buy it. 

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No. Ill 


Chara&er Sketches 

"Rip Van Winkle" 

N THE quaint story of Kip Van Winkle, we 
meet with a character that has become a classic 
in every language. It has probably been told by 
the firesides of more people than any o*her tale. 
We are familiar with its picturesque hero in the 
immortal narrative told by America's most charming writer, 
Washington Irving. He drew his inspiration for the droll 
shiftlessness of Rip from the fatherland of the Dutch, and the 
account of the goatherd, simple Peter Klaus, who had fallen 
under the influence of the mystical spell which lay upon a 
beautiful vale whither he had been led by a boy. Twelve 
knights were playing at ninepins, not one of them speaking. 
While they played on in absolute silence, Peter was induced 
to set up the ninepins, and finally, growing tired of his task, he 
drank from a goblet near by. He then fell asleep, and when 
he awoke he was startled to find everythirg changed. The 
knights had disappeared, the skeleton of his dog lay beside mute 
yet ghastly, proof of its faithfulness to him. His goats had 
vanished-~in short, such changes had come over all as only 
the lapse of many years could bring. 

Other legends of long sleepers are told, varying only so 
far as to adapt themselves to the surroundings and beliefs of 
the race in whose folklore they live perennial lives. The 
Greeks to!d the story of the youth, Endymion, who slept for 
one hundred years on Mount Latimus, retaining his youth and 
beauty by Diana, the moon, that bathed him every night in her 
white light. The Romans delighted in the story of the Seven 
Sleepers of Ephesus. The cave where they slept the long 
years away is a shrine to this day. In Wales, a young boy, 

who loved to listen to the songs of the birds, fell asleep under 
the sweet influence of their notes, and when he awoke he 
was amazed to find that tall trees had grown up about him. 
Stranger yet, the tree under which he had sat had not only 
grown to be a mighty monarch of the forest, but it had 
decayed and fallen away. He found his home in ruins and, 
when he asked for his father, an old man told him that his 
great-grandfather had told him a son had become fairy- tied 
and the spell would not be broken until the sap in the syca- 
more under which he sat had been dried up. In Denmark, 
Ogier, the Dane, stiil sleeps Once he half awoke, when 
some young men found him with his long beard grown 
through the rocky wall. 

"Is there manhood still left in Denmark?" he asked. One 
of the young men offered a bar of iron. Thinking it was the 
arm of the youth, he was contented, and immediately resumed 
his sleep. 

In Japan there is a pretty legend of a young fisherman 
who meets a beautiful maid upon the seashore. She falls in 
love with him, and to keep him with her puts him to sleeps 
a sleep that lasts a hundred years. When he awoke and 
begged to return to his parents, whom he felt must be worried 
over his absence, she gave him permission, placing in his hands 
a golden casket as a token of her love, warning him not to 
open it if he valued his peace of mind He then went back 
to the place of his old home, to find such changes as a 
century brings. In his grief and disappointment, he forgot 
his promise to the goddess and opened the wonder-box, with 
a vague hope that it might afford a key to the mystery of his 
surroundings. He immediately began to feel the effect of the 
years, and he soon was overcome by age. 

So we might describe a hundred just such romantic tales 
of love to fellow- beings and fidelity to religion did we have the 
space. But among them all we find none more picturesque 
than our own quaint, shiftless, ne'er-do-well, yet honest Dutch- 
man/ Rip Van Winkle. 



General Sogepfj dtllep 

His Ancestors 
By John Scales, A. B., A. M. 

i^TlOSEPH CILLEY, commonly known as Gen. Joseph 
Cilley, was born in Nottingham, N. H., in 1734, 
^ and died in that town August 25, 1799. He was 
the son of Capt. Joseph Cilley and Alice Rollins or Raw- 
lins, who were married in 1724-25. Captain Cilley was born 
in Hampton October 6, 1701, and died in Nottingham in 
1786. Alice (Rawlins) Cilley was born in 1701 and died in 
Nottingham in 1801, aged a full hundred years. Captain 
Cilley was the son of Thomas and Ann (Stanyan) Cilley. 
Ann Stanyan was the daughter of John and Mary (Brad- 
bury) Stanyan of Salisbury, Mass. John Stanyan was the 
son of Anthony Stanyan, who was born in England about 
161 1 and came to New England in 1635 in "The Planter." 
He lived in Boston and Salisbury. His wife's name was 
Mary. Captain Cilley's grandmother, Mary Bradbury, 
was the daughter of Capt. Thomas and Mary (Perkins) 
Bradbury of Salisbury. Captain Bradbury was one of the 
ablest men in Massachusetts during his period of active 
life, 1 640-1680. 

General Cilley showed his love and respect for this 
ancestor by naming his eldest son Bradbury. Mary Per- 
kins (Bradbury) was the daughter of John and Judith 
Perkins of Ipswich, Mass. He was born in England in 
1590 and came over in the ship "Lyon" with Roger Wil- 
liams in 1631. He lived in Boston two years and settled in 
Ipswich in 1633. He owned "Perkins Island" in Ipswich 
River. He held various town offices and was representative 
in the General Court in 1636 and later. He died in 1654. 



So much for the ancestors of General Cilley in lines other 
than the Cilley; all first-class Puritan stock. 

General Cilley *s grandfather, Capt. Thomas Cilley 
(Seally), was a sea captain, whose residence was at Hamp- 
ton, N. H., where his children were born. Later in life he 
resided at Andover with his son Thomas. He died in 
Nottingham while there on a visit to his son, Capt. Joseph 
Cilley, the date of which is not known. He appears to 
have been a successful sea captain, a good citizen, and not 
given to office holding or participating in public affairs. 
He was a gallant old sea dog. 

Richard Cilley (Sealy), his father, was a magistrate of 
the Isles of Shoals for several years, who finally removed 
to Hampton, where he died; his wife's name is not known; 
he seems to have been at the Shoals from 1650 to 1660, 
engaged in the fishing business, at which time and long 
after the islands were a great fishing station. 

He was son of Captain Robert (Seely) Cilley of Water- 
town, Mass, who came there from England in 1630; his wife's 
name was Mary who had administration of his estate Octo- 
ber 19, 1668. He had three sons, John, William and Rich- 
ard, whose residence for a number of years was on the 
Isles of Shoals, where there was then a large settlement. 
They were all sea-captains and were men of enterprise in 
various ways. 

Such were the ancestors of Captain Joseph Cilley, 
who with his wife and family removed from Hampton to 
Nottingham about 1727, and settled on Rattlesnake Hill, 
so called, on the south easterly side of The Square. 
He first erected a log cabin in which he deposited his 
household goods, all of which effects of every description 
he brought with him on the back of one horse, himself and 
family accompanying on foot, a distance of about 20 miles 
they had to travel, much of the way through forests. A 
clearing was soon effected, with what preliminary work he 
had done, and good crops were raised the first year. He 
was industrious, economical and enterprising; his means 


increased and in a few years replaced the log cabin with a 
large frame house; a monument by the road side, from 
Nottingham Square to Epping Corner, marks the spot 
where his first log house stood. He purchased other land; 
built other houses; engaged in lumbering and farming, and 
became noted for his enterprise and his possessions among 
the dwellers in Nottingham and the towns around. He 
earned his title as Captain by service in command of the 
Provincial Militia, having received his commission from 
Governor Wentworth. All of his Cilley ancestors were 
Captains, father, grandfather and great-grandfather. He 
was of medium height, compact frame, active temperament, 
with great powers of endurance and quickness of percep- 
tion with an almost unerring judgment. He combined 
great cheerfulness and generous hospitality with a remark- 
able fearlessness in danger and hopefulness under discour- 
agements. He was born October 6, 1701, and lived to be 
85 years old, vigorous almost to the end of life. 

Alice (or Elsie) Rawlins (or Rollins) was grand- 
daughter of James Rawlins (or Rollins) who emigrated to 
America in 1632 with the settlers of Ipswich, Mass., and 
whose wife was Hannah. They were the ancestors of the 
distinguished Rollins family of New Hampshire. She was 
born in 1701 and died in 180 1. It was said of her that she 
was a large, strong, vigorous woman quick of step, strong 
of will and very methodical in conducting her household 
affairs. Her home, whether a log cabin or a house two 
stories high with "gable windows" was a model of neatness 
and order. She drank neither tea or coffee, nor tasted of 
the intoxicating bowl, nor smoked or took snuff, which 
latter was a very fashionable custom in her day. The 
Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution in 
Nottingham is named for her, and they have marked her 
grave in the General Cilley burying ground on The Square 
with an immense boulder and bronze tablet. 



In the earliest records the name is variously spelled 
as Seely, Seeley, Sealy, Sealey, Seelye, Sillea, Ceely; 
spelling in those days was not a fixed art; it was a sort of 
spell as you please period; the first of the race to spell in 
the present way was Captain Joseph Cilley of Nottingham; 
he so spells his name in his Will and on various documents, 
and he appears to have been very well educated for a man 
of that period. 

In Froude's History of England, Vol. VIII, page 452, 
it is recorded that in the year 1563 the following petition 
was addressed to the Lords of Elizabeth's Council: "In 
most lamentable wise showeth unto your honors, your 
humble Orator Dorothy Seely, of the city of Bristol, wife 
to Thomas Seely, of the Queen's Majesty's guard, that 
where her said husband upon most vile, slanderous, spite- 
ful, malicious and most villainous words spoken against 
the Queen's Majesty's own person by a certain subject of 
the King of Spain — here not to be uttered — not being able 
to suffer the same did flee upon the same slanderous per- 
son, and gave him a blow — so it is, most honorable Lords, 
that here upon my said husband, no other offence in 
respect of their religion then committed, was secretly 
accused to the Inquisition of the Holy House, and so com- 
mitted to most vile prison, and there hath remained now 
three whole years in miserable state and cruel torments." 

In the list of captains who accompanied Drake to the 
West Indies in his famous voyage 1585-86, appears the 
name of Captain Thomas Seeley in command of the 
"Minion"; he was probably a son of the Thomas above 
mentioned; his mother had trained him up to manhood in 
deadly hatred of the Spanish race. 

Burke states: — The family was of Norman extraction; 
that John Sealey, Esq., said to have been of the family of 
Sealy of Bridgewater, went to the sister isle in the time of 
Charles II. He was the father of Robert Sealy, Esq., of 

r *; 


Bardon, who married Miss Marsh, sister of General Marsh, 
and had issue, Robert, Armiger, George, Baldwin, Eliza, 
Bridget and Jane. From Burke it also appears that 
Charles Seeley, Esq., was a member of Parliament from 
Nottingham. "Ollyver Ceely" appears as Major of the 
militia in Plymouth in 1660. The name of Ceely occurs in 
the list of emigrants from Essex County, England. 

Robert Seely of Watertown probably came to America 
in the fleet with Winthrop, as the registry of his desire to 
become a freeman was October 19, 1630, and as "Robte 
Seely" took the oath of freeman May 18, 163 1, at Water- 
town, Mass. 

This Robert Seeley rendered valuable military service 
in the Indian wars and came to be an officer with the rank 
of Lieutenant. He was second in command under Captain 
Mason in the Pequot War. This service called his atten- 
tion to the lands in Rhode Island and Connecticut and he 
finally settled in the latter colony. He had then risen to 
the dignity of Captain, and was chosen "Commissioner for 
ye Town of Huntington and sworn in Court May 14, 
1663." Captain Seeley seems to have died in New York 
in 1668. 

While Captain Seeley was engaged in fighting the 
Indians, his sons appear to have come down to the Isles of 
Shoals and engaged in fishing, which was then a very 
flourishing and profitable business there. One of the 
settlers there at that time was John Cutting, and probably 
his daughter or grand daughter married Captain Joseph 
Cilley's grandfather Richard Cilley (Sealy); hence it came 
that Capt. Joseph named one of his sons "Cutting," for the 
boy's great-grandmother, Mary Cutting. This son became 
Capt. Cutting Cilley in the Revolutionary Army and did 
valliant service for the patriot cause. 

"A History of Cailly in Normdie," recently published 
in pamphlet form says: "Guillaume de Cailly accompanied 
in 1066 Guillaume The Conqueror, in England and val- 
liantly fought at Hastings, preferring to die than to fail to 


the faith that he owed to his Duke.'' It is claimed, and 
perhaps truthfully, that this soldier is the founder of the 
family in England and established the name. In this His- 
tory the name is spelled de Cailly, de Caly, and de Sailly 
previous to 1399 when it was spelled de Sealy and de Cely. 
Later the "de" was dropped and it appears as Cailly, Cely 
and Sealy, but all from that same old warrior who came 
over from Normandy with William the Conqueror in 1066. 


General Cilley's ancestors, paternal and maternal, were 
all English; he was a thoroughbred Englishman on Amer- 
ican soil; not of a lineage counted great, but of fishers and 
choppers and ploughmen, who constituted New England's 
yeomanry. For forty years he was a loyal subject of the 
king of Great Britain, and he would no doubt have 
remained so all his life if King George had behaved him- 
self and treated his subjects justly and honorably, as King 
Edward of to-day conducts the affairs of state in Great 
Britain. The story of General Cilley's dealings with King 
George will be told later. Let us look at the first two 
score years of his life. 

Joseph Cilley was born in Nottingham, in 1734; he 
had three sisters older, one of whom, Alice, married Enoch 
Page; and one sister and a brother younger. That younger 
sister was Abigail, who married Capt. Zephaniah Butler, 
an officer in the Revolutionary Army; they were the 
grand-parents of Gen. Benjamin F. Butler of the Civil 
War. She was the woman who taught her grandson his 
A, B, C's and instilled into his mind the spirit of inde- 
pendence and free thought which she had inherited and 
imbibed during the great struggle of the Revolution, in 
which her brothers Joseph and Cutting were such prom- 
inent actors. The younger son was born in 1738, married 
Martha Morrill in 1761 and died in 1825, aged 87 years. 
He resided in Nottingham and was a captain in the Revo- 


lutionary Army during the war. He held various town 
offices in Nottingham. His last days were passed in 
.Northfield, where he died at the residence of his son John. 
They had twelve children, nine boys and three girls, all but 
one of whom were married and left descendants. Several 
of the sons lived to great age and have honorable records. 

Gen. Joseph Cilley was a farmer; his farm and family 
residence were on The Square, about a mile above the resi- 
dence of his father at the Ledge Farm, where he was born. 
Previous to the Revolution he held some town offices, but 
his chief attention was given to farming, lumbering and 
business affairs in general, such as occupied the attention 
and energies of business men in that period. He was 
united in marriage with Sarah Longfellow, November 4, 
1756. He was then 22 years old; she was 17. They had 
ten children, three daughters and seven sons. He died 
August 25, 1799, aged 65. She died May 23, 181 1. 

Sarah Longfellow was the daughter of Judge Jonathan 
and Mercy (Clark) Longfellow, who settled in Nottingham 
about the same time, or a little after Capt. Joseph Cilley 
settled there. For further information in regard to Judge 
Longfellow and his wife, the reader is referred to a previous 
number of The Granite State Magazine. Sarah 
Longfellow Cilley was a woman of superior intelligence 
and strong personality. At the opening of the Revolution 
she was only 37 years old. When her husband went to 
the war she resolutely took up the burden of managing the 
farm, the family of eight children and household affairs in 
general. Her eldest daughter had been married two years; 
her eldest son, Bradbury,was 15 years old. Those were stren- 
uoustimes, but Mrs. Cilley was equal to the demand, and with 
the loyal help of her young sons, whom she trained in ways 
of industry, she kept the farm and all the family affairs in a 
prosperous condition until her gallant husband sheathed 
his sword and returned from the warpaths to the paths of 
peace. What the woman did at home was equally as patri- 
otic as what the man did in the field of war. After the 
war Mrs. Cilley was a conspicuous and leading lady in the 


numerous social functions which the brilliant career of her 
husband demanded of them to participate in. Sarah Long- 
fellow Cilley was a model Colonial Dame of the opening 
years of the American Republic. 

The children of Gen. Joseph and Sarah (Longfellow) 
Cilley were as follows: 

1. Sarah, born October 16, 1757; married, August 19, 
1773, Judge Thomas Bartlett of Nottingham, who was one 
of the leading patriots in New Hampshire, and a descend- 
ant of the distinguished Bartlett family of Old Newbury, 
Mass. He was one of the leading men in town affairs of 
Nottingham for forty years. He was captain of a com- 
pany at Winter Hill in 1775-76; lieutenant-colonel in 
Colonel Gilman's Regiment in 1776, and same in Colonel 
Evans' Regiment in Rhode Island, 1778. He was colonel 
of one of the regiments New Hampshire raised for the 
defense of West Point in 1780, where he was stationed 
when General Arnold played the traitor. He was a mem- 
ber of the Committee of Safety from May 28, 1778, to 
January 5, 1779. After the war he was major-general of 
the New Hampshire militia, succeeding his father-in-law, 
Gen. Joseph Cilley. During the last ten years of his life he 
was judge in the Court of Common Pleas, holding that 
office at the time of his death, in 1805. 

2. Bradbury, born February 1, 1760; married, Novem- 
ber 19, 1792, Martha, daughter of Gen. Enoch Poor. This 
son was not much in public life, but was a man of great 
business ability, much of which was due to the training his 
mother gave him during the Revolutionary period. He 
was elected representative in Congress in 18 13 and served 
one term. He was colonel on Governor Gilman's staff in 
1814-15, doing active duty in the fall of 1814. In 1817 he 
was United States marshal for the district of New Hamp- 
shire. He acquitted himself honorably in all of those 
offices, but his great ability was manifested in business 
affairs. He always resided on Nottingham Square; he died 
there December 17, 1831, in his seventy-second year. 

(To be continued) 







£*% *> ^ Wi A^ frV a. •■;^' JNKSl 


Cfje Vermont Grants! 

New Hampshire's Interest in Them 

By Ovando D. Clough 

Part III 

(Continued from the A_pril-June number) 

/^J^^HEN the College party began to hold the reins and 
' V* . guide the course of the state. Dartmouth Col- 
^ lege then was in the state of Vermont. Eleazer 
Wheelock was made a justice of the peace, and Bezaleel 
Woodward judge of the Superior Court to "banish tories, 
etc." The College party then adjourned the Assembly to 
meet in October at Windsor. Then the united committees 
met at the house of Colonel Murray at Orford, and sent 
out notices to the east-side towns, then a part of Varmont, 
to obey all military laws of Vermont, but to co-operate 
with New Hampshire militia for the common defense. 

President Weare also was notified of the separation of 
the towns, w T ith an expressed hope of a "friendship and 
union between the two states." But the Exeter people 
were angry, not only towards the College party but the new 
state, and President Weare sent a letter to New Hamp- 
shire delegates in congress urging Congress to interfere. 
He also wrote to- Governor Chittenden of Vermont, pro- 
testing against said actions. 

Governor Chittenden at once convened the Council, 
and at the solicitation of the Bennington body sent Ethan 
Allen to Philadelphia to see in what light Congress viewed 
the actions. Allen soon found the New Hampshire and 
New York delegates united to crush the new state. But 
he soon won over the New Hampshire delegates by prom- 



ising to use his influence to dissolve the union with the 
east-side towns, and to get recognition of the state west of 
the river, and then hastened home. 

The Assembly convened at Windsor in October, 
according to adjournment, with ten representatives from 
the east-side towns, and the College men in full power. 
Allen put in his report and added his belief that unless the 
state receded from its action in regard to the east-side 
towns, the whole power of the Unted States would unite 
and annihilate Vermont, and that Congress would admit it 
without them. The powers at Dresden fought to retain 
the debatable towns; the Bennington to dissolve the union 
with them. The first, being in the majority, proposed to 
the Exeter party to join in making the boundary between 
Vermont and New Hampshire twenty miles east of the 
river. Up to this time the Bennington force had been 
beaten at every point, but on October 21 it succeeded in a 
movement that gave it the advantage. It defeated the 
College party's project to form all the east-side towns into 
a county by themselves, thus depriving those towns of the 
privileges and powers of the other towns, whereupon the 
representatives of these towns and ten of the west side 
bolted, leaving the Assembly with just a quorum and in 
the control of the Bennington men. The seceding mem- 
bers "protested" to Congress, and Governor Chittenden 
and Allen sent letters to President Weare. Allen having 
fulfilled his promise to the New Hampshire delegates 
hoped they would now fulfill theirs, and agree to Vermont's 
independence. Chittenden's and Allen's letters to Weare 
were conveyed to him by Ira Allen and those of the pro- 
testing members by John Wheelock as their agent. 

On the 24th of October, the few members still in the 
Assembly made provisions to obtain the will of the people 
on the subject and adjourned to meet in Bennington, Feb- 
ruary, 1779. On the same day the seceding or protesting 
members planned to organize, under the way of the united 
. committees, and assemble a convention at Cornish Decern- 

new Hampshire's interest in them 187 

ber 9, 1778, composed of delegates of all the New Hamp- 
shire grants. Another of the schemes of the College 
party to form a new state of towns on both sides of the 
river, with Dresden as its center, and thus to destroy Ver- 
mont, was a new and elaborate address sent out called "A 
public defense of the rights of the New Hampshire grants, 
on both sides of the river, to associate together and form 
an 'Independent State.' " In this was discussed, learnedly 
and ably, all sides and phases of the controversy. 

When the convention met at Cornish, twenty two 
towns were represented, eight of them on the west side of 
the river. The convention rejected the river boundary as 
set by the King in 1764; it annulled the Vermont Assem- 
bly of October 21, on the county matter; ignored the 
Windsor Constitution, and dissolved the Vermont confed- 
eration of towns. It also requested towns not represented 
in that convention to join it to procure the line between 
Vermont and New Hampshire at what was known as the 
''Mason line," at twenty miles east of the river. If the 
east-side towns did not agree to this, then New Hampshire 
would be asked to claim jurisdiction over all the grants, 
and provide a plan of government to suit all the people. 

Meanwhile, till one of these conditions obtained, the 
"United town," as they styled themselves, would "trust 
in Providence and defend themselves." But the Benning- 
ton party was not idle and moved to counteract these 
schemes.. Ira Allen, who was at the Cornish Convention, 
wrote to President Weare that the incoming Assembly of 
Vermont would not encroach on New Hampshire's terri- 
tory, nor would it allow any encroachment on Vermont 
territory. He also sent an address to the west-side towns 
to adhere to Vermont as then constituted. 

Thus the parties waged their political war. Neither 
side rested. But when the Assembly met at Bennington, 
February 11, 1779, the Bennington Association had a 
clear majority instructed to vote to recede from the union 
of the sixteen east-side towns, and the Assembly voted to 


dissolve the union and to make it totally void, null and 
extinct. This action caused the Cornish Convention to 
ask New Hampshire to assert its old jurisdiction over all 
the grants, as before the royal decree of 1764, and thus 
wipe out Vermont. This proposition was received with 
much favor, and in March a General Bailey and a Captain 
Phelps of Newbury put in a well-drawn petition to the 
Exeter government to that end. Later, Ira Allen, with 
Governor Chittenden's report of the dissolution, appeared 
at Exeter and found the proposition rapidly gaining favor, 
which strong efforts failed to head off. But it was agreed 
that if Congress would permit Vermont to be a state, as 
then formed, New Hampshire would agree to it and, pend- 
ing this decision, New Hampshire was to exercise jurisdic- 
tion only to the west bank of the river. Action on this 
was deferred till the next session in June, and the Cornish 
Convention was ordered to collect the sentiment of towns 
west of the river, which was done by letters and handbills 
sent out from Dresden. These acts added anger to the 
already angry Bennington party, and put it to still greater 
work to head off the schemes. 

Then there came another peril. Massachusetts joined 
the opponents of Vermont with a claim to a portion of her 
territory. Then another complication arose. In some of 
the river towns there was a minority of men of means and 
influence, who had resisted the authority of Vermont and 
remained loyal to New York. They formed their own 
committees of safety and in 1779 a military company, 
officered by Governor Clinton of New York, and when 
Vermont's board of war levied men to defend the frontier, 
these New York adherents refused to furnish their quota. 
Then the so-called "Yorkers" and Vermont's officers 
clashed and the former sent appeals to New York for "pro- 
tection of person and property." 

Vermont answered by sending Ethan Allen with 
Green Mountain Boys to assist the sheriff in serving war- 
rants, signed by Ira Allen, against the Yorkers for oppos- 

new Hampshire's interest in them 189 

ing the authority of Vermont. The leaders were taken 
and confined in a rough jail at Westminster, some of them 
militia officers commissioned by New York. When their 
trials came off at Westminster ' court house, which was 
tavern, jail and court house all in one, they were con- 
demned as "rioters" and fined. To those who petitioned 
to New York Governor Clinton replied that in no case 
should Vermont be acknowledged, and wrote also to Con- 
gress that it only could prevent trouble. Congress 
appointed a committee to visit the grants and try to make 
amicable settlement; which committee came, but confer- 
ences availed nothing. 

Such were the conditions in June, when the New 
Hampshire Assembly met at Exeter, where also was found 
Ira Allen again, in the interest of Vermont, and Bezaleel 
Woodward, for the Cornish committee, whose work among 
the people had come to little. The proposition to claim 
all grants against New York seemed to favor Vermont, but 
the Benningtonians looked at it suspiciously. The College 
party, seemingly taking it as its defeat, still continued to 
play its cards. In September Congress advised the three 
claimants, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and New York, 
to authorize Congress to settle the whole disputes and 
invited the people to send to Philadelphia for a hearing. 

New York and New Hampshire at once gave Congress 
the power to settle, but Massachusetts refused, while Ver- 
mont sent a committee to look to her rights. The College 
party then tried another of its schemes. Although the 
invitation of Congress to the people to send agents to a 
hearing was intended only for the people of Vermont, 
they claimed it included them and sent Woodward and 
Colonel Olcott, of Norwich, to attend the hearing as 
agents of the united towns, which they claimed included 
most of the grants in the north portions, on both sides of 
the river. At this time the College party would have 
joined New York in putting the boundary at the moun- 
tains, still hoping and still scheming for a state within the 
valley, with Dresden the capital. 


February i, 1780, at Philadelphia, all parties interested 
were presented, but for want of a quorum the subject was 
not moved till September, when it was taken up. Ver- 
mont, still denying the authority of Congress in the mat- 
ter, sent out an appeal to the "Candid and impartial world," 
and announced her purpose "not to surrender her liberties 
to any man, or body of men, under heaven." Ira Allen 
and Stephen R. Bradley of Westminster, author of the 
appeal, were there, as also were Woodward and Olcutt, 
while Luke Knowlton of Newfane looked to the interests 
of New York. Woodward and Olcott, however, were not 
admitted to full recognition, but were allowed to put in a 
written argument. The hearing continued for a week and 
then, without stated or evident reason, abruptly ended. 
On the last day, the agents of Vermont, seeing the contro- 
versy between New Hampshire and New York put in 
jeopardy Vermont's very existence and did not consider 
her as an interested party, withdrew and filed a written 
remonstrance, saying they "would no longer sit as idle 
spectators to the intrigues to baffle a brave and meritorious 
people out of their rights." 

After their withdrawal, General Sullivan, agent for 
New Hampshire, stated that the grants were all within 
that state, and so had no right to withdraw and become a 
separate state. But a disagreement in the New Hamp- 
shire delegation over their instructions from Exeter 
suddenly ended the hearing. Sullivan really was in favor, 
as was the College party, of fixing the boundary at the 

(To be continued) 


To whom the lowest birth is given, 
In Fame's pursuit oft leads the rest; 

The bird that highest soars blue heaven 
On earth the lowest hath its nest. 


Cfce Passing of tfje 2frasfjaua 

By Martha H. P. Abbott 

The Indians of New England gave the name of Bashaba to a few of 
their chieftains who were noted for great wisdom. Passaconnaway, of the 
Penacooks, was one of these. — Author. 

The wigwam fire was burning low; 

Now here, now there, its light 
Leaped up in strange, fantastic shapes, 

Then died into the night. 

Stretched out upon his bear-skin mat, 

All unattended, lay 
The chieftain of the Penacooks, 

Great Passaconnaway. 

Without, strange orgies filled the air, 
Feasts smoked, and torchlights burned; 

The young men from a war-path far, 
Victorious had returned. 

Unheeded fell the sounds, upon 

The ears of the Bashaba, 
For, like the wigwam fire, his life 

Was ebbing fast away. 

The curtains parted, and there stood, 

In war-paint and with bow, 
Unheralded, beside his chief, 

The brave Unkankano. 

Abundant life coursed through his veins, 

Its wild, untrammeled strength 
Flashed in his eyes, and thrilled his limbs, 

Through their dark, sinewy length. 

Strange was the meeting of the two, 

Life sharply close to Death, 
The red blood pulsing hot and quick, 

And the slow, labored breath. 



"Great Chief," the warrior said, "we know 
The time is nearing, when 
A long, long journey thou must go, 
To come not back again. 

"Deep secrets, hidden in thy breast, 
Have made thee great and wise; 
Think not to bear them to that Land, 
Toward which thy journey lies. 

"Speak them to me, before thy soul 
Goes out to the Unknown, 
That still our tribe may keep the power, 
Held now by thee alone. 

"That he is worthy who asks this 
His many scalp-locks show, 
And never yet was foe but feared 
The brave, Unkankano." 

He stood expectant, and the chief, 
His old eyes dimming fast, 

Saw, as it were, his own bright youth, 
Come from the vanished past. 

But mournfully he shook his head. 

"My lips," he said, "are sealed; 
To him alone who pays the price 

Are Wisdom's truths revealed. 

"In ways he would not he must go, 
Must watch while others sleep, 
Must scale the heights in weariness, 
Must search the boundless deep. 

"Nor is this all. Nay, life itself 

But lightly held must be. 
Wilt pay the price? For so alone 
My mantle falls on thee." 

A silence fell. Each wrestled with 

A strong but unseen foe, 
And each was conquered. Humbled was 

The brave Unkankano. 

He drew the curtain's folds apart, 

And sadly went his way, 
And never has the Penacooks 

Another Bashaba. 








1 It^itMr^lK 111 ^ 

1 U- 


r-# V^ 


From a drawing by N. A. Orton 


31n Pioneer &a$& 

By the Author of the Woodranger Tales 


The patriotism of a people is measured largely by the 
respect shown to the memory of their ancestors. The 
noblest of Greece and Rome realized this and through 
their inspired writers the exploits of Jason, Hercules and 
Romulus, glorified by tradition, were made to shine forth 
on the historic pages as deeds affording inspiration for the 
sons of men. In many respects this ancient pride and 
veneration has descended from race to race, and from gen- 
eration to generation, until the sons of America share in 
this ancestral patriotism. Nor is there a people who have 
better reason to feel a pride in their forefathers. No 
sturdier cast of character figures in history than the 
pioneers who builded the foundation for our pillars of gov- 
ernment. If we have no Hercules like the Greeks, no 
Romulus like the Romans, no Tell like the Swiss, no Olaf 
like the Norse, no Wallace like the Scots, we have our 
Lovewell and his Snow-Shoe Scouts, Rogers and his Wood 
Rangers, Allen and his Green Mountain Boys, Marion and 
his Merry Men, Crockett and his Alamo. 

There is no section of the country that has greater 
reason to be proud of her pioneers than New England, 
whose first settlers were men of strong arms and undaunted 
will, accompanied by wives as brave and energetic as they, 
fit companions for these heroes of the frontier. Not only 
were these men and women inured to bear without mur- 
muring the perils and privations belonging to the founding 
of homes in the wilderness of a primeval country, but they 
became skilled in the arts and stratagems of Indian war- 



fare, the worst of all forms of combat. Their very posi- 
tions made this imperative. 

In the following chapters I have endeavored, as faith- 
fully as I could, to depict a series of incidents connected 
with certain personal experiences accounts of which have 
fallen into my hands. In obtaining these facts I have not 
depended upon the histories of the times, which are too 
often meaner of those minor matters which give us the 
lights and shades of every day existence; but I have 
depended upon fragments of personal narratives, journals 
kept by those who passed through the stirring scenes 
depicted, historic allusions here and there to the leading 
adventures, to all of which tradition has lent a storied 

Before we begin our historic tale, let us glance at the 
general situation of the colonies in New England and New 
France, so that we may the better appreciate the condition 
of our characters. Indian warfare in the Eastern Colonies 
consisted of an almost continuous series of outbreaks last- 
ing for over a hundred years, and generally connected with 
affairs in Europe, as the motherlands of the colonists were 
almost constantly at war with each other. The exception 
to the rule was that purely colonial struggle known as 
"King Philip's War," which really opened in 1662 and 
and ended in 1678. Ten years later this was followed by 
"King William's War," sometimes called "St. Castin's 
War," as that French leader had aroused the English col- 
onists by his steady encroachments on British territory. 
The Governor of Canada, or New France, as that country 
was then generally known, had begun to systematically 
organize the so-called Christian Indians and encourage 
them in making attacks upon the English. Unfortunately 
for the latter, they were experiencing the rule of an unpop- 
ular governor, so were not united to meet their stubborn 
and aggressive foes. But they did rally enough to make 
that unsuccessful attack upon the stronghold of the North, 
Quebec. The Peace of Ryswick, September 20, 1697, 


ended this war without making any material change in the 

Less than five years of restless peace followed, when 
England, May 4, 1702, declared war against France and 
Spain, and what was known in Europe as the "War of the 
Spanish Succession" ensued. In America this struggle 
was styled "Queen Anne's War," and lasted until the 
Peace of Utrecht, in April, 1713. While the former war 
had not added a foot of territory to the British domains in 
this country, by the terms of this settlement Great Britain 
obtained Newfoundland, Acadia and Hudson Bay. 

If the European powers had succeeded in closing the 
drama of arms for a time, the colonies continued to wage a 
predatory warfare. New forts were built by the French, 
and renewed attacks upon the English pioneers were car- 
ried on by the Indians. Driven to frenzy by these repeated 
cruelties, the inhabitants of New England retaliated by 
marching upon that stronghold of priestly government at 
Norridgewock, and not only routed the savages, but slew 
their dark-robed leader. This crushing blow, followed by 
Lovewell's memorable fight, in which nearly an entire 
family of red men were exterminated, brought about the 
Peace of Boston, signed by the Abenaki chiefs, and giving 
to the colonists the longest interval of peace enjoyed by 

Another war between Great Britain and France fol- 
lowed, known as the "War of the Austrian Succession," 
which was quickly transplanted to the provinces, to be 
called here "King George's War," or "Governor Shirley's 
War." This broke out in 1744, and its fruit, as far as the 
colonies were concerned, was the capture of the French 
fortress on Cape Breton Isle, Louisburg, by a body of raw 
New England recruits. The Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 
1748, provided for the restoration of such conquests as the 
rivals had made, and accomplished merely the foundation 
upon which to build the real contest for American 
supremacy soon to follow. 


It was during this brief interval of so-called peace that 
the English colonists began to unite as they had not previ- 
ously done, and the French to increase and strengthen 
their fortifications. The period was an interval of watch- 
ing and working, seven years of suspense, when the war- 
whoop of the race that never slept held the hearts of New 
England spellbound, and the tomahawk, ever whetted for 
battle, dripped with the gore of its hapless victims. In 
fact, the recent struggle had served to awaken the activity 
and bitterness of men rather than to bring with its peace 
that rest which usually comes to the overtried. In the 
midst of this trying time were enacted the startling scenes 
connected with the adventures I am about to relate. 
Nearly all of those who figure here afterwards acted impor- 
tant parts in the Seven Years' War, then already foreseen 
by the more sagacious, gaining through the experiences of 
these years the skill and wisdom that were to enable them 
to cope so successfully with their enemies at last. 

"there's ane a-wantin' " 

"There's a man out'n th' woods waitin' to sae me, 
Jeannette," said Craig, simply, taking down his long-bar- 
relled firearm from its accustomed pegs over the stone fire- 
place, and wiping its rusty surface on his greasy jacket 
sleeve. He was a tall, angular man, with a mass of 
unkempt hair, a straggling beard, and small, sharp eyes, 
forever seeming to be looking in every direction at once. 
His long experience on the frontier of old New England — 
a life that was calculated to bring out the more stubborn 
and inflammable elements of a person — had wrought him 
into the nature of a pitch-pine knot, tough, scarred, gnarled, 
quick to ignite at the touch of a spark, but slow to 

"Has he been waitin' lang, Christie?" asked his wife, 
who seemed a fit companion for such a man, stopping her 
wheel, while a worried expression came swiftly over her 
care-worn features. 

"Since yisterday, I s'spect, though 'tweren't my failin' 
tha' I dinna know o' his comin'." 

"I thought ye said he'd staid his comin'? An' how 
did he fin' ye here, Christie?" 

"I dinna can tell. Ye'll see tha' th' calf is got hame 
to-night, 'cos th' wolves might worrit th' creetur', an' it has 
ta'en a foolish notion o' late o' runnin' awa'." 

A new light came into her eye, and her faded counte- 
nance brightened as she asked: 

"Canna ye put awa' this meetin' him till another day, 
Christie? I had planned to pull th' flax soon." 

"Ha' to let it stan' a leetle longer. He canna be put 



While speaking he had taken down his gun and, allow- 
ing it to rest in the hollow of his left arm, slung a powder- 
horn and bullet-pouch over his shoulders. With these 
means of warfare, casting a nervous glance at her and then 
at the childish form curled up on the bear skin robe in the 
corner, he moved out of the cabin and across the clearing 
in front with that peculiar shuffling gait which seemed so 
much a part of him. She followed him to the door and, shad- 
ing her eyes from the slanting rays of the westering sun, 
watched him as he continued to approach the primeval 
forest stretching for miles in every direction, like a huge 
tent showing a window here and there, made by some 
adventurous pioneer's clearing. She watched him in 
silence until the brown of his buckskin suit had mingled 
with the shadows of the wilderness and he was lost to her 

"I'm sorry he has come," she said, half aloud, as she 
reluctantly returned to her wheel, stopping on her way to 
gaze upon her babe, fast asleep. 

Out where the pines threw their shadowy arms over 
the edge of the clearing Craig soon came in sight of a man 
seated on a fallen tree taking his gun to pieces, using an 
old broken-bladed knife for a screw-driver. This person, 
like himself, was tall, angular of figure and irregular of 
feature, though these last were nearly concealed behind a 
dense growth of beard, whose uneven surface showed that 
it had been trimmed with some dull instrument so it looked 
like a patch of young growth in which deer had been 
browsing. He merely glanced up at the appearance of 
Craig, while he kept en busily with his work. The latter 
crossed over to where he could look down upon him, and 
propping the butt of his gun upon the ground and folding 
his arms over its muzzle he stood for several minutes in 
silence. Finally he said: 


The reply was equally curt: 



Again silence settled over the strange twain, lasting 
while the shadows crept out over the opening several feet. 
It was broken then by a snap of the hammer of the weapon 
falling on the empty pan, as the workman stopped to test 
what he had done. His countenance now lighted some- 
what, as if he was pleased with what he had done. 

" Tears to hold," remarked Craig. 

"Good for one shot," replied the stranger, beginning 
to pour a charge of powder down the long, battered iron 
throat. This he followed with a buckskin wad. He then 
dropped a bullet upon this, and followed with another wad, 
tamping it all down to his satisfaction. His task com- 
pleted, he turned resolutely toward his companion, saying 
in a slow tone, as if he was weighing every word: 

"There be ane a-wantin' at name." 

Craig nodded to this, as if speech was not demanded, 
asking, after a brief pause, during which the other had 
primed his weapon: 


The stranger followed his example of reply by nod- 


"Suit me." 

"Mebbe there's no need to beat 'round th' bush," said 
Craig, reflectively. "Ye hev been a lang time comin', but 
mebbe 'tis better so. Th' flax, th' auld woman tells me, 
needs pullin' bad, but I can spare ye sich a matter 's ten 
minutes. If it be fer langer, then the auld woman '11 
hev to find another mon to pull th' flax." 

Then the two, as if understanding perfectly the situ- 
ation, each turned his way and walked at a deliberate gait 
thirty paces. So evenly did they measure this distance 
that the twain turned about at the same moment, calmly 
facing one the other, standing sixty yards apart. A spec- 
tator must have been puzzled to understand what this 
conduct meant, though there was evidently a deadly pur- 
pose underlying this peaceful exterior. Craig pointed 


with his left hand to where the westering sun sent 
a shaft of light through a rift in the tree-tops like a bar of 
silver or, better yet, for there was life in it, a serpent in 
silver foil creeping toward a small boulder in its pathway. 
It lacked less than a hand's span of reaching its goal, and 
the look on the pioneer's countenance seemed to say: 

"When it shall reach that rock." 

The other was saved the effort of nodding by the shrill 
cry of a catbird, when a happier thought entered his slug- 
gish brain, and he said: 


Craig nodded. Then the couple, so strangely met, 
waited and listened, each prepared at the quickest rate 
possible to throw back the hammer of his firearm and, 
taking aim at his rival, send the leaden messenger on its 
terrible errand at the signal of the innocent songster. 
But the bird, as if understanding the fate hanging upon 
its note, remained silent, while the listeners grew tired 
of that expectant attitude. The silver serpent crawled 
slowly to the rock, and then as silently began to climb 
the barrier in its path, losing its brightness as it 
advanced, until it vanished in the shadows beyond. Still 
the two maintained their steady positions, neither looking 
back nor to the right or left. When it looked as if they 
would have to abandon their waiting, the silence of the 
scene was suddenly broken by the ominous note they had 
listened for so long. It was short, sharp, decisive and 
"freighted with uncommon significance. 

Simultaneously the duellists drew back the hammers 
of their weapons and brought the deadly instruments to a 
horizontal position, pressing the stock firmly against the 
shoulder. At least Craig completed this action. His 
enemy stopped abruptly in the midst of his movements 
and allowed the butt of his firearm to drop to the ground 
instead of bringing it to his shoulder. Folding his arms 
over its top he coolly watched the action of Craig. A snap 
inside the stock, as he had pulled the hammer back, 


had warned him that the repaired spring had failed to hold 
and that his gun was useless. In proof of this the hammer 
had dropped downward with a click. 

The sound reached the keen ears of Craig, and he 
realized that his foe was at his mercy. This thought 
flashed through his mind as his eye ran along the barrel, 
and his finger sought the trigger of his gun. But neither 
finger nor eye completed its work. Instead the gun was 
slowly lowered. 

"Tears to me th' man who boasts o' his cunnin' 
needn't take all day to finish a job like yer's," muttered the 
stranger, as if dissatisfied at the unexpected delay and 
anxious to end the scene. 

"Gun no good?" asked Craig. 

" 'Tain't my fault," replied the other. I'd lined ye 's 
sure 's gum 'f th' auld gun hadn't gone back on me. But 
that ain't here nor yon; pull." 

'"Drat me 'f I do. Th' Craigs ain't 'em to fergit er 
wrong, nor to shoot er man without any show. Wait till 
I can go down to th' house." 

"Nuther gun?" 

Craig nodded but hastened to say as if in extenuation 
of his conduct: 

"I fergot to kiss th' childer." 

As he started toward his home at his peculiar loping 
gait, the other followed him to the spot where he had been 
first seen, moving like a double upon his track. In fact, 
the couple appeared enough alike to be twins. Craig had 
a singular twitch to his right ankle, and this the stranger 
also possessed. Upon reaching again the place where first 
discovered by his rival he stopped and, taking out his 
broken-bladed knife, resumed work upon his gun. The 
wild bird was now making the welkin ring with its song, 
as if rejoicing at the outcome of the recent affair in which 
it had acted such an innocent and yet important part. But 
its merriment ceased with a thrill of terror at the very 
height of its outburst of song. 


Meanwhile Craig, without looking to the right or left, 
and apparently heedless of the action of his enemy, kept 
on toward his humble home. As he came in sight of his 
cabin he saw Mrs. Craig anxiously looking in that direc- 
tion. At sight of him her countenance took on an uncom- 
mon brightness. 

"I did not hear any shootin'," she said, without trying 
to conceal her agitation. 

Craig shook his head, walking past her into the cabin. 
Stooping first to kiss the sleeping child, he next took down 
a second gun from its pegs behind the skin door. 

" 'Tain't quite 's heavy 's mine," he mused, "but it 
mus' do. It bein' a strange weepon, his takin' mine will 
offset me takin' this." 

Without further words, merely nodding to his wife, he 
repassed her and started to retrace his steps to the woods. 
He had not gone a rod, and she had barely reached the 
entrance to the cabin, when a feathered shaft whistled past 
his head and, missing it by a hair's breadth, plunged its 
point into the wall of the cabin, close to the door. A 
moment later a warwhoop that was calculated to carry 
terror to the heart of the hapless family of pioneers rang 
on the still afternoon air, until it seemed as if all the 
demons of the infernal regions had been suddenly turned 
loose upon the earth. Craig caught sight of half a dozen 
Indians at that moment coming out of the rim of under- 
growth of alders bordering the meadow below the cabin. 
At the same time he was even more surprised at discover- 
ing a woman running toward his home from a point a little 
higher up the valley. She was bare-headed, her long hair 
streaming in the wind, while her countenance, even from 
that distance and the hasty view he had obtained, showed 
great excitement and fear. She had not seen him until 
now, when, as if the sight of a possible friend had relieved 
the fearful strain upon her mental and physical being, she 
came to a partial pause, and throwing up her arms in sup- 
plication, called loudly for help. .Understanding that to 


falter then would be fatal, Craig shouted for her to keep 
on to the cabin, toward which he ran at the top of his 
speed. They reached the door at the same moment, where 
they were greeted by the terrified Mrs. Craig with the 

"Mercy me? We shall be killed and scalped by the 

"Into the cabin!" cried Craig, fairly pushing the 
women before him, closing the door as he followed them. 
He had barely accomplished this act before a shower of 
lead rained against the wall of the dwelling, more than 
twenty-five bullets lodging in the door. The reports of 
the firearms had not died away before the Indians gave 
utterance to another wild alarum, but instead of rushing 
forward altogether, as they had first threatened to do, the 
majority remained under cover of the woods. 



It will be remembered that Craig carried in his hands 
the two guns with which he had started out to meet the 
man waiting for him in the woods. As soon as he had 
closed the door and slipped the stout crossbar that held it 
firmly in place into its socket, without stopping to speak to 
his frightened companions, he sprang to the nearest loop- 
hole in order to get a shot at one of his dusky foes. 
Though they were working under cover of the growth, he 
was quick enough to draw bead upon a tall chief, and the 
report of his gun was swiftly followed by the death-cry of 
the red man, who staggered backward and dropped to the 
earth. With a rapidity of action gained only after long 
practice with the weapon, the pioneer exchanged his smok- 
ing gun for the other, brought the latter in a direct line 
with another savage, who had paused momentarily to note 
the fate of his comrade. So close upon the report of the 
second gun that it seemed simultaneous, this warrior 
uttered a yell of pain and fell prone beside his lifeless 

Possibly thinking from the rapid firing that the cabin 
held more than one marksman, the other Indians quickened 
their steps, and a moment later nothing was to be seen or 
heard of them. 

Without speaking. Craig handed his own weapon to his 
wife, and began to reload the other gun. As if under- 
standing by his action what was wanted of her, Mrs. Craig 
began to recharge the empty firearm, but her hand trem- 
bled so some of the powder fell to the floor. The new- 
comer, who was a young woman of comely appearance, was 
wringing her hands and sobbing with mingled grief and 
fright. As soon as he had loaded and primed his weapon, 



the whole process occupying less time than I have taken to 
speak of it, Craig looked cautiously out of the porthole, in 
order to satisfy himself in regard to the contemporary 
movement of his enemies. 

"They're takin' a rest," he said simply. "Come fur, 
lass?" he asked of the new-comer, who was a stranger to 

"From the meadows of the Long River. Oh, sir! I 
have seen such dreadful things. The Indians are on the 
war-path, and I know not if we shall be able to escape with 
our lives." 

Craig spoke reassuringly to her in his abrupt though 
not unkindly way, concluding by saying: 

"The reds seem to be hatchin' out new deviltry. 
They are still down by the edge of th' woods. While I 
watch, ye can talk." 

"As I have said, I lived over on the big meadows, 
father's cabin being about a mile above the garrison house. 
Occasionally an Indian has been seen at the settlement, 
but always in apparent friendship, and no one dreamed of 
trouble until a few days ago. Two men by the name of 
Flint and Twitchell, from Walpole, went back into the 
hills to get some highland ash to make oars of. A young 
man stopping at our home, by the name of Eden Harwood, 
followed them the next day for the same purpose, discov- 
ered their dead bodies, horribly mutilated, where the 
Indians had surprised and killed them. He came back to 
our house as quickly as he could to warn us of our danger, 
and then left to go down the river by boat to the fort, 
while he set out to spread the news to other families that 
the Indians were again on the war-path. 

"We took such things with us as we could carry, and 
reached the bank of the river in safety. Just then I 
remembered a little keepsake that I prized highly, as it 
belonged to my little brother who was killed by the Indians 
during one of their raids several years ago. It was a little 
wooden ladle that father had whittled out for him to stir 


the maple syrup with as it boiled in the big kettle. I had 
one like it, but lost it in the wild scene which took place as 
the red men surprised us during a few minutes that fathei 
had left us at camp alone. From that day to this we have 
never seen or heard a word of poor little brother, and ] 
have always kept the ladle as a memento of a most 
unhappy day. 

"So, telling father I would be back by the time he hac 
got the boat freed from its fastening, I ran to our cabin 
without dreaming of iil-fortune. I found the ladle readily 
but as I turned to leave the the cabin I was met ir 
the doorway by three savages in warpaint and armed with 
guns and tomahawks. I screamed once as ' loudly as 3 
could, partly from fright, but hoping that father and mothei 
would hear me and know that the Indians were about. 

"Before I could repeat my outcry, I was seized anc 
made a captive in spite of my struggles. Then, appearing 
in great haste to get away, my captors dragged me off int( 
the woods, though I was very glad to have them go in < 
direction opposite from the river. I do not know if they 
or any of their party, found father and mother. I hope not 
and that thought alone gives me courage. 

"With the memory of the awful fate of little brothe 
Benny in my mind, I resolved that I would go no farthe 
with the Indians than I was obliged to go, even if I los 
my life in trying to get away from them. There wer 
seven of them in number, and that was yesterday. Las 
night, watching my chance while they slept, I slipped fre< 
of my bonds and stole away without arousing them. 
have been hiding from them all day, but a little while ag 
they found me, when I was compelled to flee for my life 
expecting to be retaken. You can imagine with what jo] 
I saw your cabin, but I am sorry I have brought thi 
trouble upon you. I can see now it would have beei 
better to let them retake me, as by so doing I might hav 
spared you this suffering." 

"They seem to be holdin' a talkin' bee," remarke* 

v j . IN PIONEER DAYS 207 

Craig, without replying to her story. "I b'lieve they 
vvant'r get me inter th' talk." 

The following romantic incident seems to have been 
the origin and reason leading up to this Indian attack upon 
the families living upon Great Meadows, of which we get 
a vivid idea from the fugitive's htory: 

In their eagerness to worry the English settlers the 
French at Montreal, in the autumn of 1747, sent out an 
expedition consisting of Indians under the command of 
the young cadet, Pierre Riambault St. Blein, a grandson 
of the governor-general of Montreal. Soon after entering 
the Pocumtuck Valley in western Massachusetts, this 
unwary leader was surprised and captured by the English, 
and his followers routed. The illustrious captive was taken 
to Boston, where he was retained for a considerable time, 
until he could be exchanged for two English captives held 
by the French. 

Sieur St. Blein proved to be a very observing man, 
and on his way back to Canada under the escort of the 
English he noticed the weak condition of the frontier set- 
tlements, particularly those in the vicinity of Great 
Meadows, from whence for the succeeding stage of his 
journey it is recorded that our hero, John Stark, was a 
guide across the then trackless wilderness of what is now 
the state of Vermont. The return party was led by Ser- 
geant Hawks, a noted frontier scout, and the journey was 
made over the water-shed in Mount Holly, down a branch 
of Otter Creek to the main river, thence through Claren- 
don, Rutland, Pittsneld to Brandon, reaching the shore of 
Lake Champlain nearly opposite Ticonderoga, when they 
moved down the lake to Sorel River, reaching Montreal in 
midwinter. The journey was made on snow-shoes, and 
under cover of the white flag. 

The cadet lived about midway between, Montreal and 
Quebec, where he was received with great rejoiciug by his 
relatives and friends, he having two brothers who were 
extreme partisans. In a spirit of retaliation for his defeat, 


and encouraged by the intelligence he brought of the 
weakness of the English settlements, the expedition was 
planned and carried out which resulted so disastrously to 
the families concerned in this narrative. 

But to return to the beleagured cabin. 

As Craig finished speaking one of the Indians was 
seen to emerge boldly from the cover of the woods, and 
carrying a strip of birch bark fastened to the end of a short 
stick, approach with steady steps. He had left behind him 
his gun and tomahawk; only his painted cheeks and tail 
plume, which rose and fell with a gentle movement as he 
advanced, hinted at his warlike purpose. The natural 
silence of the forest had been restored, but it was a sup- 
pressed stillness which foreboded evil rather than peace. 
The furtive gaze of Craig missed no movement of the 
dusky messenger, though he did not betray any emotion. 
A low cry from the child served to change if not check 
the suspense of Mrs. Craig, and she quickly lifted the little 
one into her arms. A moment later the shrill voice of the 
watchful pioneer commanded the approaching Indian to 
stop. The latter instantly obeyed, saying in broken 

"Cris know Manesquo?" 

"Did," replied Craig, laconically, recognizing the 
speaker supposed to be friendly to the whites and who had 
called upon him several times during the summer. 

"Manesquo want to talk to white brother." 
; "Talk," was the terse reply. 

"The war-torch is lighted. Indians come for Cris and 
his squaws. If go still-mouthed not harm much." 

"Go yerself," retorted Craig, "Is that all?" 

"Cris not know all. Many Indians in woods; palefaces 
only one — two — three; one — two squaws, one man." 

"Go an' learn to count before you talk with me. My 
supper is ready; ye had better look arter yours." 

Giving expression to a grunt of dissatisfaction, if not 
contempt, the Indian withdrew. 

(To be continued) 

' ^^mw^^ ^w^^^^ 


■44/// ■ !«.'M.IM 

mm I 



3lnbtan Crabtttcms; anb Jfolfclore 


A Legend of Amoskeag Falls 

By Laconica 

]OU may never have heard this legend of the Bride 
of the White Canoe; it may never have been told. 
In the stoned past it lingers, and somewhere and 
sometime it will be told as I tell it. The imagery of the snow- 
white bark and its dusky occupants, pictured in the midst of 
the waterfall as if the real objects had been caught by some 
mysterious power and held there in defiance of natural 
law, is not to be seen now. Peradventure, it vanished with 
the appearance of that new light which dispelled the 
brightness of the old. Darker shadows have fled from our 
forests and rivers with the hosts of yesterday, and the old 
settler, gray with the gloom of the wilderness, assured me 
that he had seen it. With the silver of the harvest moon 
shimmering upon the transparent waters, he had seen and 
wondered if some fairy yet lived amid these scenes, if some 
daring canoeist of the race that had vanished had risked 
his life in a wild ride over the brink and been punished for 
his folly by being caught upon the rocks, or was it—a 
noiseless step by his side brought to him a brown-hued 
tale-bearer, who, as the daylight deepened into twilight 
and the vision disappeared, told him this story of the 
long ago: 

It was when Cyclonac was the great sachem of the 
Penacooks. Then their sun shone with noonday bright- 
ness. The pines on the hills overlooking the long window 



of Broken Waters* were not thicker than their wigwam s 
on the bluffs of Namaske. Then their warriors defied the 
sons of the West; their hunters never returned from the 
chase empty-handed. Their burnt clearings reached far 
and wide, and their women tilled great patches of maize 
and melons. No feasts were as bountiful as theirs. There 
was no prophet as renowned as Cyclonac; no princess as 
fair as Winneona of the White Canoe. 

If the dark corners of the forest had their charms, so 
did the open heart of Kakaashadi call to the hunter and 
the warrior when their day's wild work was over. In the 
dusky twilight they came to spear the fish that sported so 
abundantly for them in the foam-fringed flood. Grown 
weary of the common place, they would set afloat their 
fire-raft on an autumn night, that the piercing rays of their 
hundred torches might burn bright pathways into the hid- 
den caverns of the forest to lure from their sleep into the 
range of their bows the wondering denizens of the wild- 
wood. Or it might be under the moonlight the restless 
pines, flinging their thousand fingers out over the dreamy 
waters, beckoned them forth for one of those canoe races 
for which they were noted as far as their wampums had 
been carried, east and west, north and south. Should the 
evening be fair and 'twere whispered that Winneona, the 
Maid of the White Canoe, was to mingle in the pastime, 
then the water would be dotted with canoe-men and the 
bank thronged with spectators. 

Bind the grace of the lily to the sweetness of the rose; 
the brightness of the evening star to the softness of the 
southern breeze whispering its secrets to the poplar, and 
you have found the sources of the many charms of Winne- 
ona. A maid so fair and gentle should have many lovers, 
and Winneona had hers. One by one she gave them the 
answer that leaves the heart a fugitive of hope, until it 

♦Indian name for the Merrimack, expressed in their tongue by the 
word Kaskaashadi. — Author. 


came to choosing between Kohass the Pine and Aurayet 
the Sunbright. Dark as the pine for which he was 
named, Kohass was known as a brave hunter, whose nimble 
foot had climbed the Great Hill,* and he had hurled, 
empty-handed, from the brow of Annabesetf the big, 
brown bear that had killed six warriors in one foray, and he 
boasted of having defied the bitter tempest which over- 
powered three stout braves in a single night. Aurayet was 
like a ray of sunshine, and there was no day so dark that 
he could not see the sunshine, no storm so biting that he 
felt the arrow of selfishness piercing his heart. He had 
fought alone the big war party of Mohawks under Unca- 
noonucs' shadows, coming out of the fray with glory 
enough for one warrior. 

If Winneona felt any choice between these-lovers, she 
did not own it, On dark days, when the flowers closed 
their bright faces and the sun hid its brightness, she must 
have felt the warm passion of her light-hearted suitor. 
But when the sunshiny days displayed with happy effect 
the darker traits of Kohass, then she admired if she did 
not love him. At other times she feared him, so Kohass 
was ever with her in spirit. Fear and love are often kin. 
So I think she loved Aurayet and feared Kohass. It was 
this fear which made her slow in giving her reply to this 

In this not uncommon situation for a maid, she chose 
upon a plan which should decide their fate and hers. She 
would become the bride of him who could outmatch the 
fleetness of her canoe. Many times had she flown like a 
wildbird over the playground of the Merrimack, flinging 
back to her lovers merry taunts of victory over them. It 
is true Aurayet had once sent back the laugh against her, 
but this fact did not lessen her hopes or check her from 
giving forth her bold challenge. 'Twere no serious fear to 
defy such a daring lover. 

♦Probably Kearsarge Mountain. — Author. 

tThe blufE overlooking the falls at Hooksett. — Author. 


So the message went abroad, and merry excitement 
ran over the lodgment. 'Twere seldom if ever such a 
challenge had been given, and not only did Kohass and 
Aurayet hasten to accept the challenge, but others asked 
and gained permission to join in the race for so fair a prize. 
So five were added to the twain mentioned. 

The trial was to take place upon the favorite race 
track of the Merrimack, above the thundering falls, and 
the time selected was the harvest moon, then near at hand. 
And, while the rivals began to prepare for the great ordeal, 
the women of the tribe began to get in readiness the feast 
that was to follow the race and the marriage. Hunters 
began to search the game lands for the best they could 
offer. From the forest were brought long trains of ever- 
green and the frost flowers of the river bank with which 
to deck the bridal train and the rich viands of the festival. 

Ay, little can you penetrate the meaning of this canoe 
race. It promised to overleap all other trials of the kind, 
and there had been many in the moons gone away. Once 
rival chiefs had raced for life and death and, what was 
dearer, honor, the vanquished yielding himself up, without 
a murmur, to the victor. Once a Mohawk brave rowed 
here against Nolka, the Penacook giant, with the promise 
of his freedom if he overcame him. Never did Nolka of 
the "Magic Paddle" fly over the water as he did on that 
day. He won, too. But it was only because at the last 
moment the paddle in the hand of the Mohawk snapped 
like poorly seasoned wood. Then Nolka showed that the 
bravest are the most generous, for he plead so earnestly for 
the brave from the West that the other was spared his 

So upon the eve of the harvest moon, while the mis- 
tress of light climbed in silence the pathless hills of the 
sky, old and young gathered upon the bank of Kaskaas- 
hadi to witness the coming canoe race, until such a crowd 
had never been seen upon the river side. As the time 
drew near for the race to begin, one after another of the 


rival lovers took his position. Then Kohass was seen to 
sweep his canoe into the center of the water-way, he alone 
looking confident of victory. Well he might, for he 
alone of all those present knew that Aurayet, the most 
dreaded rival, lay among the alders and willows of Anna- 
beset, silent and motionless. Scarcely two hours since had 
he tracked him down and sent the arrow that had laid him 
low. Arrows are silent messengers, but their messages 
are winged with death. 

Having no thought of this, Winneona, as the time 
drew near for the opening of the race, glided into position, 
casting anxious glances hither and thither as she looked in 
vain for Aurayet. She was to have a path down the 
center, with those who were to race with her ranged on 
either side according to the plan of the one in charge of 
the trial. Kohass came nearest upon her left, while a track 
had been left for Aurayet upon her right. Only he was 
lacking to make the arrangements complete. And now all 
began to wonder why he came not. 

The moon had no waiting spell for tardy lovers. If 
they came or went she sped her starry flight, making 
brighter and brighter the pathway of the rival canoeists. 
All save Winneona were impatient to start. But she, 
looking more beautiful than ever it seemed, sitting like a 
princess in her snow-white canoe, made of the summer bark 
of the birch, and as transparent as the moonbeams. She 
fain would have had the race postponed until he should come 
or word of him be told. But the great chief, bribed no doubt 
by Kohass, said he had had time to come, and unless he did 
at the moment set he must be counted out of the race. Cast- 
ing a furtive glance toward her dark lover, Winneona saw a 
wicked smile lurking about his mouth. Then the boastful 
warrior whispered across the water: 

. "Winneona to-night becomes the bride of Kohass." 

Before she could reply, if she would, the great chief 
raised over his head the dry pine stick whose breaking was 
to be the signal for the canoeists to start. Then the sharp 


crack of the breaking wood had not fairly rung 6n the still 
air when six canoes shot forward like arrows from well- 
strung bows. Kohass led the way. Winneona hesitated, 
as if loath to start without Aurayet there with a chance to 
win. The cry which began with the spectators suddenly 
ceased when it was seen that she was likely to forfeit the 

At that moment, too, though only a few heard the 
message, Arrowleaf, the Fleet-Footed, appeared upon the 
scene with the startling word that i\urayet, the Sunbright, 
had been slain as the wolf falls. This awoke a yell of 

Possibly mistaking the meaning of this outburst for 
one of derision at her failure to do her part, Winneona was 
brought back to a realization of her situation. Should she 
allow Kohass to win the race without an effort on her part, 
it would be done to her life-long shame. Like a flash of 
light her white canoe shot over the moon-tinted waters. 
In the twinkling of a star, it seemed, half of the rival 
canoeists were overtaken and were swiftly left behind. 

The bank of the Merrimack rang with the wild cheer- 
ing of the onlookers. Every eye was now fixed upon that 
noble race — the grandest Penacook had ever looked upon. 
Never did the moon gaze down upon so fair a picture of 
life and endeavor. Other waters may have mirrored her 
image with clearer beauty lines of silver and gold; other 
forests may have thrown darker shadows across her path- 
way; but never had she looked upon such a vision of light 
and shade mingled; of human effort to win heart and 
honor. The brown deer, slaking his thirst by the river- 
side, beheld the canoeists with awe, and while he watched 
and waited forgot his thirst. The prowling wolf, looking 
down from the distant crag, checked his howl of rage and 
looked on in silence. The vast throng of people watching 
and fearing, gazed upon the beautiful sight spellbound. 

If Aurayet had failed to keep his pledge, it only made 
Winneona more earnest to w r in. Kohass' evil smile had 


kindled the fear of her heart into hatred. Sooner than 
keep his wigwam would she become the death-bride of 
Namaske. With this stern thought in her mind she gave 
all her skill, all her strength, all her will, to winning the 
race. Her white canoe flew over the water like a wild 
bird, the paddles, lighter than feathers in her hands, lend- 
ing it wings. Now the first, then the second, the 
third, fourth, fifth of the champions were passed, and only 
Kohass, the Pine led, fighting the great battle of his life, 
throwing all of the skill of his hands, energy of his arms 
and ambition of his heart into this grand struggle with 
the Maid of the White Canoe. Side by side the twain, 
maid and warrior, sped down the moonlit way. 

Soon it was seen by the anxious watchers that Winne- 
ona was beginning to gain upon her rival. The difference 
was yet slight — so slight that the onlookers dared not 

In the midst of the great silence, which hung like 
invisible curtains over the scene, Winneona gained a hand's 
span upon her dark rival. The onlookers saw this with 
wild joy, and their delight was beginning to find expression 
in shouts of gladness, when suddenly the entire aspect of 
the race was changed. Sweeping down the course like the 
white-winged winds of winter, a canoeist sped upon the 
pathway of the fleeing maid and warrior. The throng of 
people on the river bank saw him, and the murmur of joy 
upon their lips changed to a wild Outburst of wonder and 
exultation, — a thunderous applause that rang above the 
roar of old Namaske, a prolonged cry that was heard that 
night a deer flight away. Never, it is said, not even when 
Connepokum won his matchless victory over the Tarra- 
tines did the river and forest ring with such cries. They 
were so mighty and overpowering that the canoeists 
glanced back to see what was meant. 

Winneona saw with pulsing heart Aurayet coming 
swiftly upon her path and a wild feeling of gladness came 
into her soul. 


Kohass saw the rival lover that he had slain sitting 
erect in his boat, his hands grasping his strong paddle 
without dipping or raising it, while he was carried on by 
some strange power with the fleetness of the wind. Know- 
ing that it was the spirit of Aurayet that had joined in the 
race, he uttered a cry of terror and toppled back into the 
water, leaving his canoe to be caught a moment later in 
the gathering eddys of the waterfall. 

If Winneona saw the sudden fate of Kohass no one 
knew. She was seen to hesitate for a moment in her 
earnest work, though the thunder of the falls was begin- 
ning to ring in her ears. And then, while all the others 
looked on with wonder rising to horror, the phantom 
canoeist glided alongside of the white canoe with its 
amazed occupant; he reached out an arm and lifted her 
into his canoe. And, holding her close-locked in his 
embrace, they were borne on toward the brink of the 
broken waters. The warning cry the onlookers would fain 
have uttered froze upon their lips. Speechless, motionless, 
helpjess to save them, they saw the twain carried nearer 
and nearer the brink until they disappeared in the mist and 
foam of the raging waters. And as this startling action 
was going on the notes of a war-song rose above the 
thunder of the river — the paean so often sung in the hey- 
day of his victories by Aurayet the Dauntless. 

So the wedding feast was never touched, and with 
anxious forebodings the Penacooks waited until daylight 
that they might look for the mangled bodies of the lovers. 
These were never found, and it was known that Winneona 
had gone to spiritland to live evermore with her faithful 
Aurayet. It was said in after years that, with the harvest 
moon shining clear in the sky, upon that particular hour of 
of night, the outlines of the failing canoe and its passen- 
gers, as they shot over the brink, could be seen pictured 
in the swinging spray of the falling waters. That is all 
that has been told of the Bride of the White Canoe. 

Jftttp gear* of textile Slnbusitrp 
in J^eto ajnglanb 

The Amoskeag Manufacturing Company 
By A Staff Contributor 

'HAT country alone is great whose manufacturing 
advantages are allied with the cunning of the brain 
and the skill of the human hand. It is true that 
agriculture is the oldest employment of man and its accom- 
plishment the foundation of his upbuilding, but it never 
lifts a timber above the sills of his superstruction. "Home, 
ward the plowman plods his weary way" empty-handed. 
The barbarian may be, and often is, an agriculturist, but 
his feet are earth-bound. The shepherd, tending his flocks 
on the sunny slopes of some Iverness, may fill an idyllic 
life, but he is only a dreamer. The range of the Arab is 
as far-reaching as the ring of his fleet-footed steed; the 
roof of his tent is as wide as the blue-arched dome of the 
Persian sky, and his freedom undoubted; but his legacy to 
posterity is as barren as the sands of Sahara. It is not 
until man begins to exercise his fertile mind in the inven- 
tion and making of those things which shall enable him to 
broaden the scope of his labors that he starts on his 
upward course. 

Even in this stage of progress, his capacity to do and 
attempt is helpless until he calls to his assistance the 
latent powers of nature. Then the river becomes his 
most potent ally. As an agricultural territory New Hamp- 
shire could never have become to any extent a noticeable 
factor in the march of progress or power. But with her 



excellent water privileges, in proportion to her area, she is 
in the ranks of the progressive states. And the Merrimack, 
•'the busiest river in the world," is the source of her great- 
ness. Not only does this "river of broken waters" afford 
the power for the majority — the most — of her manufactur- 
ing industries, but it has given the impetus to the progress 
and growth of four prominent cities of the Bay State, 
Lowell, Lawrence, Haverhill and Amesbury. Passing by 
this quartet of industrial centers, of which we hope to 
speak later, we will in this number sketch the development 
of those gigantic manufacturing interests made possible by 
the falls of Amoskeag. 

This rugged waterfall has a descent of forty-five feet, 
carrying over its dam, when the water has a depth of one 
foot above its rim, 3,700 to 3,800 cubic feet every second 
during the working hours of the machinery that it turns. 
The current of the river is so slight that a flowage is 
accomplished which reaches back to the falls of Annabesit.* 
or Hooksett, a distance of eight miles. The area covered 
is 443 acres, and the average rise obtained upon October 
1, 1908, was 3.325 inches. The river above Pawtucket 
Falls at Lowell has a flowage of eighteen miles. These, 
with other water privileges of note, help to make the 
, Merrimack the river remarkable for its power. 

It was as noted to the aboriginal inhabitants in its 
pristine glory for its fisheries as it is to-day for its manu- 
facturing industries. Amoskeag Falls was especially well- 
-known among the early pioneers, who little realized 
the possibilities lurking under the lash of its foaming 
current, as a "horrible cataract." Hither came the good 
Parson McGregor, as early as the summer of 1719, one of 
the very first of the white settlers in this vicinity, to gaze 
with awe and pious veneration upon the falls. The first 
recorded evidence that we have of the place was given by 

•This is an Indian terra signifying "little place for fish," in compar- 
son to Namaske, or Amoskeag, "great place for fish." — Author. 


Capt. William Tyng in December, 1703, when that doughty- 
pioneer led his band of snow-shoe men upon their memor- 
able wintry march into the "North Country" in search of 
Indian prey. 

The first man to express his belief in the possibilities 
of this water power was Judge Samuel Blodget. But his 
mind and means were engrossed in the subtile undertak- 
ing of setting at defiance the waterfalls by building his 
canals. He came upon the scene of action too early to 
lead the way in this enterprise, as he certainly would have 
done had he been born a few years later. Thus it was left to 
a worthy pioneer in New England manufactories, Mr. Benja- 
min Prichard, to harness the legions of an idle river to the 
looms of industry. He had served his apprenticeship at 
Ipswich, where the first cotton mill had been erected in 
New Hampshire in 1803. After working here six years, 
this ambitious young man, in conjunction with three 
brothers named Ephraim, David and Robert Stevens, came 
to Amoskeag, then a part of the town of Goffstown, and 
built their mill, the first cotton mill on the Merrimack 
above Pawtucket Falls. 

The business grew so rapidly that it was soon thought 
necessary to form a stock company, which was christened 
"The Amoskeag Cotton and Wool Factory." This name 
was changed the following June to "The Amoskeag Cotton 
and Woolen Manufacturing Company." The first board of 
directors consisted of James Parker, Samuel P. Kidder, 
John Stark, Jr., David McQuestion and Benjamin Prichard. 
The first-named was chosen president and Jotham Gillis 
was made clerk and selling agent. He was succeeded in 
order by Philemon Walcott, John G. Moor and Frederick 
Stark. Compared with the mills of to-day, this was a 
primitive affair, having neither picker nor loom, and it 
made but slow, though deserving, progress along its un- 
trodden way. No small meed of praise belongs to those 
sanguine leaders in the industrial world. 

The factory was about forty feet square and two 
stories high, situated midway between the head and foot of 


the falls, directly below the west end of Amoskeag bridge. 
The cotton used was parcelled out to the families living in 
the neighborhood,, to be ginned at four cents a pound. 
The yarn was woven by hand by women who had looms in 
their homes. The Rev. Cyrus W. Wallace said in one of 
his discourses: 

I have examined the accounts kept in the beautiful round hand of 
Jndge Stark for the month of October, 1813, and for fifteen days in succes- 
sion. During the month there were manufactured, at Amoskeag, three 
hundred and fifty-eight skeins per day of cotton yarn. This was about 
the average amount: the three hundred and fifty-eight skeins at factory 
price were worth twenty-nine dollars and twenty-two cents. 

After some changes in its management and increased 
knowledge and capital, in 1826, the old original mill was 
enlarged and a new one was built upon the river bank, 
with another upon an island,* which was burned May 14, 
1840. The second structure raised on the bank was known 
as "The Bell Mill," from the fact that a bell there called 
the operatives to work. Shirtings, sheetings and tickings 
were now manufactured, the latter commodity winning a 
wide reputation as the "A. C. A." tickings. Both of the 
mills upon the bank were consumed by fire March 28, 1848. 

Until July 13, 1831, the manufacturing was carried on 
as a private enterprise with varying success according to 

♦This island was reached by a bridge that spanned the rapids from the 
west bank, near where the P. C Cheney Paper Mills were afterwards built. 
The fire which destroyed the island mill seems to have been the first fire 
of special mention in Manchester. A local writer, Mr. E. F. Roper, in 
the Observant Citizen's column in the Union, says that in 1846 there were 
several buildings on the island, namely: a machine shop, foundry, dry 
house and a large house occupied by three families. Cyrus Baldwin, who 
afterwards invented the seamless bag loom, was boss of the shops. 
Among the hands were two who deserve especial notice: S. H. Roper, the 
builder of the first successful steam carriage, and G. A. Rollins, who later 
built steam engines at Nashua. The other cotton mills were nearer the 
village, which it was then believed was to become the heart of the coming 
city. This was in the days when Farmer owned the old hotel or tavern, a 
noted resort, and John Allison kept the village grocery. — Author. 


the capital and exprience given it. Upon July I of this 
year, the state legislature authorized the formation of the 
Amoskeag Manufacturing Company with a capital limited 
to a million dollars, a great sum for that day. The incorpo- 
rators were Oliver Dean, Ira Gay, Willard Sayles, Lamed 
Pitcher, Lyman Tiffany and Samuel Slater. At the first 
meeting Mr Tiffany was chosen president; Mr. Gay was 
made clerk, and Oliver Dean agent and treasurer. 

This was the most important meeting ever held in the 
interest of the company, inasmuch as its counsels and acts 
laid the foundation of the future of the manufacturing 
interests of the Merrimack at this place. It was unani- 
mously agreed that the property of the old firm should be 
taken for stock in the new company, and it was decided 
that the new organization should acquire possession by 
purchase the title to the land on both sides of the river, 
though it was settled that henceforth the main mills should 
be located upon the east bank, where the engineers 
declared it was most feasible to build canals and to utilize 
the water power. The company, in 1835, acquired the 
property of the Isle of Hooksett Canal Company, the Bow 
Canal Company and the Union Locks and Company, 
located at different points along the river. The following 
year the Hooksett Manufacturing Company, which had a 
capital of two hundred thousand dollars, was merged with 
the Amoskeag. About this time the first brick mill upon the 
Merrimack was built in Hooksett from brick made near at 
hand. The falls here have a perpendicular descent of six- 
teen feet and are capable of carrying one hundred thousand 
spindles. The Amoskeag Company operated this privilege 
until 1865, when it sold the franchise to a new corporation 
with a capital stock of one million* dollars, authorized by 
the legislature. In 1837 the Concord Manufacturing Com- 
pany became a part of the Amoskeag. 

The Amoskeag Manufacturing Company not only 
obtained a control of the water power of the Merrimack 
from Concord to Manchester, but purchased large tracts 


of land, fifteen hundred acres on the east side, joining 
upon the river und reaching back into what was then wild 
country. In 1837 the company made a plan of the future 
city of Manchester, and laid out the site of a town, with 
the main street running parallel with the river, and in 183S 
it sold land divided into lots for building and business 
privileges. This movement not only brought into the 
market much land to become valuable in the following 
years, increasing as time passed by, but it opened the way 
to the coming city. This wise foresight is seen to-day in 
the well-arranged streets and commons that are such a 
blessing to our city, making it one of the best-regulated in 
New England. 

In the meantime the company had been active in its 
own direct business. The wooden dam across the river, 
built a few years before, was repaired in 1836, and the fol- 
lowing year the construction of a wing dam of stone, with 
guard locks, was begun on the east side. This was com- 
pleted in 1840. In 1838 the rights, site and water privi- 
leges, for a new company, incorporated as the Stark Mills, 
were sold which corporation exists to-day. The first 
building erected on the east side was the Stark Mills 
counting room, a part of which was used for a time by the 
land and water power department of the Amoskeag Manu- 
facturing Company. The first mills built on the east side 
were Nos. 1 and 2 of the Stark Corporation, and were 
erected in 1838 and 1839, respectively. 

After the burning of the Island Mill in 1840, the 
Amoskeag Company built two new ones just below the 
Stark Mills, and added to these as their demands increased. 
A machine shop was built in 1840 and in 1842 a foundry to 
meet the requirements of the increasing business. In 
1845 they sold land for a new corporation, known as the 
Manchester Print Works, and erected mills for the new 
company. This corporation, after over fifty years of suc- 
cessful operation, in 1905 was absorbed by the Amoskeag 
Company and its mills are to-day a part of the property 


and business of that company. In 1859 tne manufacture 
of the famous Amoskeag steam fire engines was begun. 

During this period of constant growth of its industry 
the original idea of the development of a city was ever 
prominent in the purposes of the company. Tenements 
and boarding-houses for their operatives and those working 
for the other corporations were erected, and land sold for 
business sites and dwelling houses. In the matter of 
public buildings a generous and beneficial policy was car- 
ried out, land being given for sites of. churches and public 

These founders of the Amoskeag Manufacturing 
Company, and incidentally the founders of Manchester, 
deserve a large meed of credit for their sagacity and enter- 
prise. It must be remembered, when an account of their 
work is taken into consideration, that their undertaking 
was entirely along an unmarked path. The manufacture 
of the goods they purposed to put on the market was 
in the infancy of its growth even in England, then in the lead 
of the manufactures of the world. There were no practical 
mechanics in the country to accomplish any design they 
might invent. It was only a short time before their organ- 
ization that it had been found expedient to manufacture raw 
cotton into finished cloth in the same mill, and thus two 
distinct branches had been carried on to accomplish one 
result. The power loom was the means to revolutionize the 
outcome and it has been claimed, with what seems good 
authority, that Phinehas Adams, Sr., was the first man in 
America to successfully run the power loom. No prouder 
monument to their success is needed than the great indus- 
try and prosperous city which has sprung up on the 
unsightly sandbanks overlooking the scene of their labors. 

This, in brief, is the story of the rise and progress of 
the Amoskeag Manufacturing Company, giving employ- 
ment to over 15,000 persons and having an annual output 
of about 200,000,000 yards of cotton cloth and 20,000,000 
yards of worsted cloth. The mills have a floor space of 


1 10 acres and have 600,000 spindles with 19,000 looms 
The weekly pay-roll is $112,000 and the amount of capital 
invested is $5,760,900. What is termed as the quick cap- 
ital is at $10,412,521.19, which represents the assets. The 
land and water power is valued at $400,000; the mills and 
machinery, $2,550,000; reserve, $10,000; bag mill, $40,000; 
plant, $3,000,000. The report of the treasurer at a recent 
meeting of the stockholders showed that during the past 
year the company has spent $500,000 in the purchase of 
new machinery, and that the profit and loss is placed at 
$1,924,993.44- The cotton goods on hand June 30, 1907, 
were valued at $512,911.41; cost of manufacture, $14,969,- 
932.94; interest, $13,265.04; guarantee, $52,648.46; profit 
for twelve months, $1,250,655.49; total, $16,799,413.34; 
goods sold, $16,109,124.75; goods on hand June 30, 1908, 
$690,288.59; total, $16,799,413.34. In the worsted goods 
department there were on hand a year ago, dyed and 
finished, 980,253 yards, while there has been finished dur- 
ing the year, 12,301,687% yards; total, 13,281,940 yards. 

This company at least has avoided the common 
mistake made by Americans in many lines of industries, 
where a person is allowed to come to the front poorly 
equipped for the responsibility that he has to fill. The 
Amoskeag Company believes that no man, however keen 
in his perception, can master a trade in a short time, and 
this is at least one place where skill is fostered and experi- 
ence counts above a passing claim to utility. The result is 
evident to the most casual beholder. Employing a high 
grade of labor and having a management conducted upon 
principles of integrity and fair dealing, the Amoskeag 
Manufacturing Company has moved steadily and smoothly 
on in the industrial sphere whether the tide of business 
ebbed or flowed. 

Herman F. Straw is the present clerk of the corpora- 
tion, and the board of directors elected are T. Jefferson 
Coolidge, George A. Gardner, George Dexter, Charles 
W: Amory, George Von Meyer, T. Jefferson Coolidge, Jr., 


George Wigglesworth, F. C. Dumaine, and Frank P. Car- 
penter. F. C. Dumaine, Boston, is treasurer of the com- 
pany, C. L. Bausher & Co., New York, are the selling 
agents; Herman F. Straw, agent; Charles H. Manning, 
superintendent; Perry H. Dow, engineer. 

Not all of the power is now furnished by the river, as 
other means have been found necessary to keep the mighty 
round of machinery revolving at all times they are needed. 
The following statistics, taken from the company's own 
table, show the situation in this respect: 


Number of steam turbines I 

Number of horse power furnished by turbine 2,000 

Number of turbine water wheels 34 

Amount of horse power furnished by wheels 16,488 

Number of steam engines 14 

Amount of horse power furnished by engines 20.900 

Number of generators 5 

Amount of horse power furnished by generators 6,700 

Number of electric motors 96 

Amount of horse power furnished by motors 7,000 

Number of boilers 146 

Nominal horse power furnished by boilers 22,000 

Number of tons of coal consumed per annum « 100,000 

Number gallons oil consumed per annum 60,000 


Bimt e. 2frofebert 

IME EDWARD BOISVERT, the solicitor of 
Hillsborough county, whose first term in office 
proved so satisfactory to the people that he was 
renominated by the largest vote given to any candidate by 
the c ounty convention, September 24, was born in Pierre- 
ville, P. Q., July 8, 1863. He came to Manchester with his 
parents when two years of age, and has since resided in 
this city. He was educated in the public schools and St. 
Joseph's High Schools, finishing with a business course in 
New Hampshire Business College. When he was ten years 
old, his father died, and from that time he earned his own way 
in life. Mr. Boisvert was married to Alexina A. Jeanelle, 
in May, 1893, an( 3 has six children, three boys and three 
girls, whose ages are between three and fourteen years. 


May 2, 1889, he was appointed special agent of the 
general land office, by President Harrison, and served until 
April, 1893, which office took him all over the western 
states in the inspection of local land offices, land titles and 
facts relating to contests for cancellation of fraudulent land 
entries and disputes between Indians and white settlers. 
The duties of this office placed him in constant relations 
with the United States district attorneys in the different 
states and territories where he worked. These relations 
and the nature of the work of his office suggested to him 
the study of law. 

On his return to Manchester, he entered the law office 
of Hon. Edwin F. Jones, completing his course there save 
a few months spent with Judge Robert J. Peaslee, now of 
the Supreme Court of New Hampshire. He was admitted 
to the New Hampshire bar June 25, 1895, anc * has been 
successful at the bar from the first. He has a well-merited 
reputation for square dealing in politics, as well as in busi- 
ness, and the better he is known the more highly he is 

Mr. Boisvert has for many years been chairman of the 
Republican committee in his ward, is a member of the 
Republican City Committee of Manchester, as well as a 
member of the State Republican Committee. He was a 
member of the New Hampshire house of Representatives 
in 1907. He has been an active, efficient, constant party 
worker on and off the stump since his twenty-first year. 
He is thoroughly American, having lived practically all his 
life in Manchester, and yet he may be considered the 
advanced representative of the French-Canadian-American 
in politics and in law. 

Mr. Boisvert has carried on his work in court and 
grand jury very expeditiously, always having matters so 
well in hand as to allow no waste of time. This in addi- 
tion to the saving to the county, brought about by several 
rulings he was called upon to make on accounts which were 
heretofore passed without question, has contributed largely 
to a reduction in the county tax. 

fteumon of tfje CtueUtf) dtegtment 

By Mary H. Wheeler 

Written for the forty-second annual reunion of the Twelfth Regiment, 
New Hampshire Volunteers, at Pittsfield, N. H., September 27, 1907. 

The world is but a camping-ground, 

Tented by the years, 
And all the people soldiers, 

But not all volunteers. 

Some were drafted, idlers some, 

And grumblers not a few; 
And rare, indeed, we find them — 

The loyal men and true. 

Though many a battle has been fought, 

The war continues long, 
Recruits still falling into line — 

The right against the wrong. 

The world is but a camping-ground, 

Tented by the years; 
Each morning with the reveille 

God calls for volunteers. 

It was forty-five years ago, boys, forty-five years to-day. 

We remember the camp on Concord Plains and the Twelfth, as it 

marched away, 
Down the dell by the watering-trough, the "Toll bridge road" to the street; 
The high bridge over the Merrimack was swayed by their marching feet. 

Their uniforms were immaculate, their muskets clean and bright, 
Arrfl the crowds of people shouted and they cheered, as well they might. 
For never a finer regiment had marched through Concord street — 
New Hampshire's stalwart mountaineers equipped and all complete; 



And the ladies thronged the station and their favors fell in showers, 
While handkerchiefs were waving and the air was full of flowers. 
And all that blessed day, boys, was one triumphant round. 
Do you mind the dinner at Worcester and the night upon the Sound? 

Forty-five years ago, boys, do you really think it true? 
Why, at the mention of that day, we are living it anew, — 
The sorrow at departure, the hand-clasps and good-byes, 
A father's lips are trembling; there are tears in mother's eyes. 

Father and mother and sweetheart, where are they all to-day? 
Was that a pre-existence, or a dream that passed away? 
And where is that fine regiment? We look for the boys in vain. 
Has Chancellorsville been repeated or Gettysburg fought again? 

There are vacant bunks in the barracks, and at roll-call responses are low, 
And the songs and stories falter as we sit by the camp-fire's glow. 
We listen for well-known voices, when the jest and the joke go round. 
But too often, alas! too often, there is silence instead of sound. 

These boys from New Hampshire's hillsides, to home life and freedom 

We read with just indignation of the hardships which they endured. 
When we think of the dangers encountered, we tremble and are dismayed. 
How bravely they fought on the battlefield! How loyally they obeyed. 
Obeyed when they saw others falter, when weary and short of breath! 
Obeyed in the supreme moment, when obedience meant but death! 
Let the drums beat loud for our heroes! The flag which they fought to 

A battle for every stripe thereon, let it wave! let it wave! let it wave! 

The world is but a camping-ground, 

Tented by the years, 
Each morning with the reveille 

God calls for volunteers. 

■ ppg pp " ' " — " "-^""-jja i 






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VOL V OCT.— DEC, 1908 No. 






CAPITAL * = = $6,000,000 

F. C. DUMAINE, Treasurer .... Ames Building, Boston 
C. L. BAUSHER & CO., 34 Thomas St., New York, Selling Agts. 

HERMAN F. STRAW, Agent Manchester, N. H. 

CHARLES H. MANNING Superintendent 

PERRY H. DOW Engineer 

This company control and manage the Water Power 

of the Merrimack River at Manchester, X. H., 

and also carry on the works for 

the manufacture of 

Gotton and Worsted Goods 


Tickings, Denims, Stripes, Ginghams, Qotton 
Flannels and Worsted Dress Goods 

Number of Mills .... 22 

Number of Spindles . . . 525,000 

Number of Looms . . . 18,000 

Number of Females employed . 8,000 

Number of Males employed . 6,000 
Pounds of Cotton consumed per 

week 1,000,000 

Pounds of Cloth made per week 800,000 

Yards of Cloth made per week 4,000,000 

Tons Coal used per annum . . 100,000 

Gallons Oil used per annum . 60,000 

Pounds Starch used per annum 

—600 tons , 3,000,000 

Drugs used per annum (value) $650,000 

Water Wheels used: 6 eight feet, 
19 six feet turbines; aggre- 
gate horse power about 

SteamPower— horse power 

Monthly Pay Roll 

Pay every fortnight 







No. IV 

Granite Jnate USap^me 

31 ^I5ontblp Publication 

[Copyrighted, 1908. J 


RGE WALDO BROWNE Managing Editor 

Tebms:— Per Annum $1.50 

Single Copy IS 

*0 Authors. — The editor respectfully solicits contributions relating to state history, biography and legend 
hose who are in possession of any incidents or narrative of local or general interest. Any one not a regular 
', and not situated to put his notes into readable form, is requested to send the rough draft and we will under- 
o put it into manuscript for the printer. Every article received will be carefully read and returned, if found 

ddress plainly: Editor Granite State Magazine, 


No. 64 Hanover Street, Manchester, N. H. 

ed as second-class matter, December 21, 1905, at the post office at Manchester, New Hampshire, under 
the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. 

Printed by The Ruemely Press <s3g||gs> 143 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H, 


Country Philosopher. (Illustrated by J. Warren Thyng) 229 

eral Joseph Cilley. (Portrait) John Scales, A. B., A. M. 233 

set. (Poem) _.„ L. J. H. Frost 241 

Vermont Grants w . Ovando D. Clmigh 245 

Scotch-Irish in Londonderry. (7 Illustrations) Ruth Wells 253 

nksgiving on the Farm. (Poem) Lou D. Stevens 257 

Hermit of Go-Back Road J. Warren Thyng 259 

Hiterarp Heatoe* 

Mrs. John Vernon. A Study of a Social Situation. By Julia De Wolfe Addison 
itispiece and cover design by Charles Dana Gibson. Decorated cloth, gilt top, i2mo. 
5, $1.50. Richard G. Badger, Publisher, Boston. 

At times art and fiction are very closely allied, as in the case of Julia DeWolf Addi- 
> new book, Mrs. John Vernon. As a writer on various art subjects, Mrs. Addison 
1 well-established reputation. Taking Boston as the scene of her novel, she deals 
the narrow conventions of old Beacon Hill and the livelier spirits of the younger set 
remarkable knowledge of her subject. The heroine, a woman of rather low New 
land parentage, is connected with a very wealthy family, by which considerable scandal 
used. She being in a position, after her husband's death,, to enter society, creates 
e a hit. The scandal, however, leaks out, and she leaves this life for one of the stage, 
re she becomes a very successful actress. Before doing so, however, her child, who 
born some time before her marriage, dies. 


WE ' -■ 

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From a Charcoal Sketch by J. Warren Thyng 


Character Sketches 

. IV 

"The Country Philosopher" 

UR ARTIST, Prof. J.Warren Thyng, has found 
inspiration for the magic of his pencil in a phase 
of rural life that does not need the aid of imag- 
ination to bring before the mind's eye his subject. 
He gives us a speaking likeness of character that many, who 
live under the shadows of the Franconia Mountains, will 
readily recognize. We have forgotten his name, but that 
does not matter. The genial, rugged countenance and the 
hopeful, good-natured expression that lights it like the sun- 
beams on a wintry morn, speak to us in unmistakable lan- 
guage of days gone by. How those deep-set blue eyes kindled 
as the artist worked, and with what admiration he looked 
upon his handiwork. Alas ! those eyes have been robbed of 
their light, and though the body lingers on the borderland of 
light and darkness the sun has set for them, until they shall 
glory in the new life. 

If you and I never had the good fortune to meet him, we 
have seen his prototype, for he belongs to a class found in 
every hamlet of New England. One of the first recollections 
that come to me of my early boyhood was his brother sitting 
in the doorway as care-free as if this old world had no trouble, 
anxiety or sorrow. His was a sturdy figure, his countenance 
rugged yet lacking firmness, which loss was recompensed by 
an exuberance of kindliness. He witnessed the fall of the 
sparrow with a start of alarm, and suffered, with the innocent, 
the pain of its wound. He would not harm a fly, and his 
foot never knowingly crushed a worm. 

He never murmured against fate. If it rained and the 
field was strewn with the new- mown hay ready for the 

housing he did not fret. If the board was scant of its offer- 
ings he did not grumble, so long as his corn-cob pipe was 
filled and there was a red coal upon the hearth wifh which 
to kindle the fragrant weed. He watched the scroll of the 
heavens and was the weatherwise of the neighborhood. He 
felt the pulse of passing events and was the prophet. He 
turned a deaf ear to strife, and lived and died at peace with 
all mankind. If he left no niche in the world to be filled, if he 
left only a memory o^ an indolent life, peace to his ashes, long 
life to his memory ! We knew him; we loved him; we revere 
his memory. 


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- «■&,•--: - • . ■ :. ■ 


General 3Io£epf) CiUep 


By John Scales. A. B., A. M. 

C^TlONATH AN, third child, born March 8, 1762; married, 
ii July 5, 1786, Dorcas Butler, daughter of Rev. Ben- 
^r\ jamin Butler, pastor of Nottingham for many years. 
He was with his father, then a colonel of the First New 
Hampshire Regiment, in 1777, a boy of fifteen years. 
When the sudden march from Ticonderoga took place, 
Jonathan was taken prisoner. His captor, on learning who 
he was, took him to General Burgoyne, who ordered that 
he should be treated kindly, and later he was provided with 
a pass to join his father in the American army. General 
Burgoyne also permitted the boy to select from the cap- 
tured baggage, which was immense, any article of clothing 
he might desire. Jonathan took the best looking coat he 
could find. This proved to have belonged to Major Hull, 
afterwards the celebrated General Hull. He was also pro- 
vided with an old horse and a pair of saddlebags, filled with 
Burgoyne's proclamations, to convey to his father. On 
reaching the regiment, he found it on parade, with his 
father in front. Colonel Cilley seized one of the procla- 
mations and read it aloud to his men; then, ordering all the 
papers to be torn to pieces, he said: 

"Thus may the British army be scattered." 
Early in 1782, when he was twenty years old, Jona- 
than was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, which posi- 
tion he held to the close of the war. He married, July 5, 
1786, Dorcas, daughter of Rev. Benjamin and Dorcas 
(Abbott) Butler, and they resided in Nottingham until 
1804, when he removed with his family to Ohio and settled 
at Colerain, near Cincinnati. In Nottingham he held vari- 


1 *" 


ous town offices, was justice of the peace, inspector and 
brigade major of the Third Regiment of New Hampshire 
Militia, assistant treasurer of the Order of Cincinnati from 
1794 to 1799, and vice-president from 1799 to 1802. In 
Ohio he became a large land-owner, and was prominent in 
business and military affairs. They had six sons and five 
daughters, most of whom married and have descendants in 
the West. 

4. Joseph, born November 19, 1764; died December 

3, 1779- 

5. Greenleaf, born March 5, 1767; married May 22, 
1788, Jennie Nealley; he died February 25, 1808; she died 
March 26, 1866, aged ninety-four years. She was a daugh- 
ter of Joseph and Susannah (Bowdoin) Nealley of Notting- 
ham. Her father was an officer in the Revolutionary 
Army and participated in the Siege of Boston. He was in 
the army at Saratoga when Burgoyne surrendered and at 
Yorktown when Cornwallis capitulated, besides being in 
other battles. Mrs. Cilley was a remarkable woman, 
handsome in personal appearance, brilliant in intellect, and 
retaining all of her faculties and vigor of mind to the end 
of life. Her husband was a farmer in Nottingham; he held 
various town offices and was major in one of the regiments 
of the state militia. They had three sons and four daugh- 
ters. Two of the sons had notable careers: Joseph, who 
was born January 4, 1791, and Jonathan who was born 
July 2, 1802. 

The elder son was known as Col. Joseph Cilley, his 
grandfather was General Joseph, and his great-grandfather 
was Capt. Joseph Cilley. It is well to keep these titles 
in mind in considering the various persons bearing the 
name Joseph Cilley. They have sometimes been confused. 

Col. Joseph Cilley was educated at Atkinson Acad- 
emy. He was commissioned as ensign in the First Com- 
pany of the Eighteenth Regiment, by Gov. John Lang- 
don, October 17, 181 1. On March 12, 1812, he was 
appointed an ensign in the United States army and ordered 


for duty in Capt. John McClary's company, Eleventh Regi- 
ment, United States Infantry, then commanded by Col. 
Isaac Clark of Vermont. He was promoted to lieutenant 
March 17, 18 14, and transferred to the Twenty-First 
United States Infantry, commanded by Colonel Miller, and 
was in the battle of Chippewa. In the battle of Brandy- 
water, or "Lundy's Lane," he was badly wounded by a 
musket ball, producing a compound fracture of the thigh 
bone. Soon afterwards he was brevetted captain for his 
gallantry in that battle. 

The action of the Twenty-First Regiment in this 
engagment deserves mention. The enemy after the 
repulse at Chippewa, July 4, 18 14, on the 25th of July 
appeared in force at Queenstown, and his fleet arrived and 
lay near Fort Niagara. General Scott, with the First 
Brigade, Towson Artillery and all the dragoons and cav- 
alry, was ordered to march towards Queenstown, to report 
if the enemy appeared, and to call for assistance if neces- 
sary. Scott pushed on his command with vigor, and upon 
his arrival at the Falls found the enemy, under General Riall, 
directly in front, behind a narrow strip of woods, and in line 
of battle up Lundy's Lane, a ridge of land nearly at right 
angles with the Niagara, and about a mile below the Falls. 
General Scott sent informatian to General Brown, and 
his advance commenced skirmishing about 5.30 p. m., but 
the action, did not commence in earnest until 7 p. m., 
The British were in much larger force, hence were able to 
extend their lines much farther and to make flank move- 
ments. To counteract this advantage, our troops fought 
in detachments and charged in columns, each upon their 
own responsibility, until General Brown came up with the 
remainder of the forces. Major Jessup, taking advantage 
of a wood between a road parallel to the river and the 
river, through which he led his regiment, turned the 
enemy's left, took General Riall and some of his principal 
officers prisoners, and, charging back, regained his position 
in gallant style. Meanwhile, the enemy moved a battalion 


to the rear of our right flank, but were promptly met by 
Major McNeil with the Eleventh, and driven back with 
great slaughter. Thus the contest raged for an hour; the 
British infantry driven back at each point by turns, but 
holding their position through a powerful battery of two 
twenty-fours, four sixes, and three howitzers, planted upon 
a rising ground and commanding the field, and keeping up 
a destructive and incessant fire. 

Now came Ripley's brigade, containing Lieutenant 
Cilley's regiment, to the front, enveloped in smoke and 
mad with excitement, greeted with cheer after cheer by the 
combatants. While forming for evening parade, the boom- 
ing of cannon and the rattling of small arms announced 
that Scott had found the enemy. They moved immedi- 
ately, and at the double quick, actually running three miles 
betwixt the camp and the battlefield. Porter's brigade fol- 
lowed them. Both were soon deployed and hurled against 
the enemy, but the battery upon the hill made sad havoc 
among our troops. It became evident to General Brown 
that the British battery must be carried to insure success. 
He turned to gallant Miller of the Twenty-First, and 
ordered him to storm the battery. "I'll try, sir," was the 
laconic reply. The contest that followed is well described 
in a letter written by Colonel Miller. 

"I had short of 300 men with me, as my regiment had 
been weakened by numerous details made from it during 
the day. I however, immediately obeyed the order. We 
could see all their slow matches and port fires burning and 
ready. I did not know what side had the most favorable 
approach, but happened to hit upon a very favorable place, 
notwithstanding we advanced upon the mouths of their 
pieces. There was an old rail fence on the side where we 
approached, undiscovered by the enemy, with a small 
growth of shrubbery by the fence, and in within less than 
two rods of the cannon's mouth. I then very cautiously 
ordered my men to rest across the fence, take good aim, 
fire and rush; which was done in style. Not a man at the 


cannon was left to put fire to them. We got into the 
center of their park before they had time to oppose us. A 
British line was formed and placed in line to protect their 
artillery; the moment we got to the center they opened a 
most destructive flank fire on us; killed many and attempted 
to charge with their bayonets. We returned the fire so 
warmly they were compelled to stand. We fought hand 
to hand for some time, so close that the blaze of our guns 
crossed each other; but we compelled them to abandon 
their whole artillery, ammunition wagons and all; amount- 
ing to seven pieces of brass cannon, one of which was a 
twenty-four pounder, with eight horses and harnesses, 
though some of the horses were killed. The'British made 
two more attempts to charge us at close quarters, both of 
which were repulsed before I was re-enforced by the First 
and Twenty-Third Regiments; and even after that the 
British charged with their whole line three several times, 
and after getting within half pistol shot of us were com- 
pelled to give way. I took with my regiment between 
thirty and forty prisoners." 

This charge took place about 10 o'clock at night, in 
moonlight. Colonel Miller's regiment lost in killed, 
wounded and missing, one hundred and twenty-six, nearly 
one-half his strength. Lieutenant-Colonel Cilley's com- 
pany led in the charge on the cannon, and every commis- 
sioned and every non-commissioned officer present with 
the company was either killed or wounded. This was one 
of the most sanguinary battles of the war, and the gallant 
act of Colonel Miller and the noble Twenty-First won 
the admiration of all. 

Lieutenant Cilley was afterwards brevetted captain for 
his gallantry in that battle, and was retained in the United 
States army on the peace establishment until he resigned 
his commission in July, 1816. An explosion of cartridges 
at Detroit, Mich., caused the loss of his right eye. On the 
2 1st of June, 1 8 17, he was commissioned as quartermaster 
on the staff of the first division, New Hampshire militia, 


and in 1821 as division inspector; in 1827 he was appointed 
aide on the staff of Gov. Benjamin Pierce, with the rank 
of colonel, by which title he was known the rest of his 
life. In 1846, Colonel Cilley was elected by the legislature 
to the United States senate, to fill the vacancy caused by 
the resignation of Hon Levi Woodbury. Upon the close 
of his senatorial term, Colonel Cilley retired to his farm 
in Nottingham. 


Hon. Jonathan Cilley, a younger brother of Colonel 
Joseph, born July 2, 1S02, prepared for college at Atkin- 
son Academy, graduated from Bowdoin College in 1825, 
the class which had many members who became distin- 
guished, among the number being Longfellow and Haw- 
thorne; he studied law with United States Senator John 
Ruggles at Thomaston, Me.; being admitted to the bar, he 
entered into practice of his profession at that place. He 
not only became a successful lawyer, but also became inter- 
ested in political affairs soon after entering upon his prac- 
tice of law; he edited the "Thomaston Register" from 
1829 to 1 831; he was elected representative from Thomas- 
ton to the legislature in 1831-33-34-35 and served as speaker 
of the house the latter year. In 1832 he was elected pres- 
idential elector; in 1836 he was elected to congress, being 
the acknowledged leader of the Democratic party in that 
congressional district, although only thirty-four years old. 
His career as congressman was cut short by a duel with 
Congressman William J. Graves of Kentucky, February 
24, 1838, in which he was shot dead on the field at Bladens- 
burg, Md. That duel is historic, as it caused the end of 
duelling by congressmen. A brief of the story of the 
duel is as follows: 

On January 23, 1838, in the house of representatives, 
Henry A. Wise, representative from Virginia, who later 
was governor of Virginia from 1856 to i860, in which his 
last act was hanging John Brown at Harper's Ferry, 


opposed the appropriation bill before the house for the 
expenses of the Seminole War, in which he indulged in 
one of his most bitter tirades and a general attack upon 
the administration. 

Mr. Cilley answered him in calm language, delivering 
one of the most admirable speeches ever heard in that 
ancient hall of congress. In this be brought to bear upon 
the unworthy factiousness from which the opposition to 
the bill evidently sprung, a power of reasoning, a broad, 
philosophic elevation of views, and a moral power of sin- 
cerity and patriotism perfectly overwhelming, but Henry 
A. Wise was one of those "Hotspurs" who make all the 
more fuss the more they are "overwhelmed." 

The next step towards the duel arose from a Washing- 
ton letter, published by the New York Courier and 
Enquirer, signed, "A Spy in Washington," in which some 
unnamed member of congress was charged with corrup- 
tion and bribery, and the charge was backed editorially by 
Col. James Watson Webb, a man who was as much of a 
"Hotspur" as Henry A. Wise, who introduced a resolution 
of inquiry in regard to the charge. A lively debate 
occurred on that resolution, in which Mr. Cilley took part 
and opposed the adoption of the resolution on the ground 
that the anonymous obscurity of the source from which the 
charge came placed it entirely beneath the dignity of the 
house to entertain it, especially as the charge was with- 
out specification, individuality, oath, or direct responsi- 
bility, the writer being unknown, and the member accused 
being not named, the writer being vouched for by the 
editor of a newspaper, of which paper he said: 

"He knew nothing of the editor,- but if it was the 
same editor who had once made grave charges against 
an institution of the country and afterwards was said to 
have received facilities to the amount of some fifty-two 
thousand dollars from the same institution and gave it his 
hearty support, he did not think his charges were entitled 
to much credit in an American congress." 


This led to a letter from Webb, demanding that Mr. 
Cilley should apologize or fight a duel. Mr. Cilley posi- 
tively declined to have anything to do with Webb, or to be 
called to account for words spoken in debate on the floor 
of the house. Webb's challenge was carried to Mr. Cilley 
by Congressman William J. Graves of Kentucky and, as 
the challenge was declined, Graves took it upon himself 
to make Mr. Cilley apologize in some way and say that he 
had not "any personal objection to Colonel Webb as a 
gentleman." Mr. Cilley replied that he would not be 
drawn into any controversy with Webb, and he would 
neither affirm nor deny that Webb was a "gentleman" and 
a "man of honor," and at the same time he assured Mr. 
Graves that he intended no disrespect for him (Graves) in 
refusing to have anything to do with Webb. 

An extended correspondence then followed in regard 
to the challenge by Graves and arranging for the duel, 
Henry A. Wise acting as "second" to Graves, and George 
W. Jones acting as "second" to Mr. Cilley. Mr. Jones 
was congressman from Michigan. The duel was fought 
on the famous duelling ground at Bladensburg, just outside 
of Washington; time about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, Feb- 
ruary 24; the weapons, rifles; distance apart, 80 yards; 
three shots were fired and Cilley fell on the third, shot 

The affair caused a tremendous commotion in Wash- 
ington, which spread throughout the country, the general 
public branding Graves as a murderer and Wise and Jones 
as particeps criminis. All three were terribly frightened, 
fearing prosecution and severe punishment. Jones and 
Wise published a statement, trying to justify their connec- 
tion with the affair and calm the excitement which had 
arisen, but their statement failed to accomplish anything 
of the kind. 

(To be continued) 

By Mrs. Lucy J. H. Frost 

The following beautiful tribute is taken from a selection of 
verses written by this author under the title of "Fireside Rev- 
eries.* ' — Editor. 

UNSET far across the plain, 
Sending back its golden rain 
To the maiden at the door, 
Whose bare feet press the sanded floor. 

With her hand above her eyes 
She the lowing herd espies; 
Coming slowly one by one, 
As they oft before have done. 

In the marsh the merry frogs 
Sing upon half -buried logs; 
While the insects on the hill 
Pipe their music loud and shrill. 

But the twilight now has come, 
And the herds are gathered home; 
While the maiden, pail in hand, 
Goes to meet the waiting band. 


Brightly beams the evening star 
In the firmament afar; 
While the songs of nightingales 
Echo through the verdant vales. 

Soon o'er meadow, vale, and hill, 
Over mists so white and chill, 
Night will let her curtain fall 
Like a blessing over all. 

4 F 


Cfje Vermont Grants; 

New Hampshire's Interest in Them 

By Ovando D. Clough 

Part IV 

(Concluded from the July-September number) 

C74\ LTHOUGH this abrupt ending of the hearing with- 
g*§ out any effect again disconcerted the College 
•^ party, it came to the valley just as full of schemes 

as ever for new combinations. The Bennington party, 
angered at the acts of the states that claimed Vermont's 
territory, and hopeless of being recognized, adopted a 
policy to convince the claiming states of the wisdom of 
not pressing too far their power and denial of justice. It 
indicated in part that secret negotiations were then going 
on to detach Vermont from the "United States" and join 
her to Canada, — a shrewd scheme to force recognition by 
the states. 

So the war of politics, as well as the War of Inde- 
pendence, raged. Parties shifted and schemed anew, 
sometimes the College party held the reins and whip, and 
sometimes the others, but almost always, in the end, the 
honest and politic yeomanry. 

Then came another bold move by the College party: 
the original scheme of 1776, to make a state of all territory 
lying between twenty miles east of the river and the moun- 
tains, in which they were joined by the Yorkers, or former 
adherents of New York, now tired of their experiences. 
The first move to this end was made in October, when a 
convention met in Brattleborough and named delegates to 
join others west of the river, and the Grafton county towns 
on the east side. 



Two weeks later, three counties, with Cheshire county 
in New Hampshire, met at Walpole and called a conven- 
tion to meet at Charlestown in January, 1781. This 
Charlestown Convention was the largest yet held in the 
valley in which politics was played by the boldest and 
shrewdest actors of all parties. On the 16th of January, 
delegates from forty-seven towns, on both sides of the 
river, met at the Charlestown meeting house, with the 
College party holding the advantage. 

The College party, the Exeter party and the New 
York party were well represented and were essentially one 
party in their wish and intent to make a state bounded on 
the east, twenty miles east of the Connectcut River and 
on the west by the Green Mountains. 

Vermont, as then formed, was not at first represented 
nor seemingly considered an interested party, but on the 
second day of the convention Ira Allen, with "carte 
blanche" from the governor and council of Vermont, and 
credentials as a member from one of the towns appeared 
at the convention. He did not take his seat nor put in his 
credentials, but went to work at once as a lobbyist, to 
undo what had already been done, and to shape the affairs 
yet to be done. 

A committee had already reported for a union with 
New Hampshire- which had been adopted by a large 
majority. Allen, through his aids, secured a recommit- 
ment of it "over night for verbal corrections fitting 
for the press." 

But the next morning found Vermont on the driver's 
seat, reins and whip also in hand. The report of com- 
mittee, instead of providing for a union with New Hamp- 
shire, now provided for a union to Vermont of all territory 
west of twenty miles east of the river, which, put to a 
vote, was carried almost unanimously. How such leger- 
demain could be performed, in a night, no one could 

Allen, in his report to the governor and council, merely 
said he confidentially informed some of the leaders that 

new Hampshire's interest in them 247 

the governor and council and the towns west of the 
mountains were then for extending the east line to 
twenty miles east of the river, which would again include 
the sixteen towns of three years before. And such was 
the result, whereupon Gen. Benjamin Bellows of Walpole, 
of the committee which reported for a union to New 
Hampshire, and ten others from Cheshire county, withdrew 
from the convention, after which the convention appointed 
a committee to confer with the Vermont Assembly at the 
February session. It adjourned to meet in the Cornish 
meeting house on the same day the Vermont Assembly 
was to meet in Windsor, just across the river. 

Thus again Windsor and Cornish joined to make a 
state of the east and west side towns, but on a larger scale 
than before and under different circumstances. A com- 
mittee from the Cornish Convention first went over to the 
Assembly and presented in form their proposition. The 
committee was dominated by the College party, with 
Colonel Paine of Lebanon as chairman and Bezaleel Wood- 
ward a member. At the same time, eleven towns in the 
northeastern part of New York asked to be admitted to 
Vermont, both of which communications were met with a 
resolve claiming jurisdiction over all territory from twenty 
miles east of the Connecticut River to the Hudson River, 
but with the proviso "not to claim such jurisdiction for the 

Finally the articles of union were agreed to and con- 
firmed by the Assembly and the Convention, to take effect 
when duly ratified by two-thirds of the towns interested. 
Then both bodies adjourned to await the action of their 

On the re-assembling in Windsor, in February, the 
returns showed a requisite number of towns had ratified 
the union, and thirty-four representatives from east of the 
river towns were admitted to seats in the Assembly, among 
which were many of the active leaders of the College 
party. So the original sixteen towns and eighteen others 


were constitutionally in the state of Vermont, and for a 
time the watchman's cry was, "All is well!" 

New counties were made, courts established, militia 
organized, and other things done for the general good. At 
the next session of the Assembly, in June, at Bennington, 
the eleven towns that had seceded from New York were 
admitted. The New York towns were called the "Western 
Union" and the towns east of the Connecticut the "East- 
ern Union." 

At this session, Ira Allen, Jonas Fay and Bezaleel 
Woodward were made a committee to present to Congress 
a new application for the admission of Vermont as then 
formed, and in case of admission to act as delegates for the 

In October, for the first and only time, the Assembly 
met on the east side of the river, at Charlestown, and with 
the College party driving. Although the Bennington .party 
had apparently heartily joined in all the movements to 
enlarge the territory of Vermont and had kept to the letter 
of the promises made to Ira Allen at Charlestown, it 
always intended to keep the power in its hands so to give 
up any claims to the new parts, if, at any time, it could 
attain its great desire, the sovereignty of Vermont as first 
formed. At times it waited as a sort of "looker on." 

At this time New Hampshire was pressing her dele- 
gates in Congress to secure her claims to Vermont's terri- 
tory, and at home preparing to hold her own territory. 
Many towns east of the river resisted Vermont's authority 
and conflicts between the officers and the citizens were 
frequent, especially in Cheshire county. Col. Ethan Hale 
of Walpole, while trying to release some friends, was him- 
self seized and jailed. A Dr. Page of Charlestown also 
was jailed at Exeter, by order of the New Hampshire 

Both states threatened to call out their militia, and for 
a time it seemed that civil war would be the only end. 
But the better sense prevailed, and order was restored. 

new Hampshire's interest in them 249 

In August Allen, Fay and Woodward were again in Phila- 
delphia, pressing Vermont's claims to statehood. On the 
20th of August, Congress declared conditions must be 
imposed if the state was to be admitted, which conditions 
were that Vermont must relinquish all claims to territory 
east of the west bank of the Connecticut River and west 
of twenty miles east of the Hudson River. In fact, the 
so-called Eastern and Western Unions. 

With these definite requirements, the delegates came 
back to the Assembly at Charlestown, the nth of Octo- 
tober, where one hundred and two towns were represented, 
thirty-six of them from east of the river. Conditions then 
forbode trouble. It was said that New Hampshire's troops 
would prevent the Assembly's meeting, and that Vermont's 
militia was prepared for any emergency. Again good 
sense prevailed and no such trouble arose. In the Assem- 
bly the report of the committee was discussed four days, 
and in the end it was determined to hold onto the Eastern 
and Western Unions, and not to submit to Vermont's 
"independence to the arbitrament of any power what- 

On the last day of the session news came by express 
of the unconditional surrender of Cornwallis and his 
whole army to Washington. This session forever ended 
the leadership, and the power to lead, of the College 
party. Its day had waned. Its sun already was half hid 
below the sky. 

Between the adjournment of the session, then at 
Charlestown, and the next to meet, January 31, 1782, at 
Bennington, the Bennington party put forth, and matured, 
many great measures for the coming session. But the 
session coming as it did, in midwinter, with the mountain 
roads almost impassable, found but few delegates present, 
and they only of near-by towns and of the Bennington 
party. Who that believes in special or divine providences 
may not long doubt that some sort of divinity at last stood 
forth in defense of Vermont. Who but the divine power 


could so have piled up the snows as to prevent the coming 
of those who theretofore came only to disturb? 

Before the end of February, the work done at Charles- 
town had been undone. The terms proposed by Congress 
had been agreed to and delegates sent to the Congress to 
get the longed for and promised recognition. That Con- 
gress gave no recognition for nine full years was not what 
might well have been expected of a congress at that time. 
Nor was it the finale to the drama the historian likes to 
record. But the "War of the Grants" was ended. There 
the "Green Mountain Boys" won their fight for a state 
under the name and within the boundaries they at first 
desired, Vermont, comprising all towns west of Connecti- 
cut River to twenty miles of the Hudson. And though it 
was not admitted to the United States till 1791, its people 
employed those nine years in making it a fit co-partner in 
all the essentials of statehood, in the greatest confederacy 
of states history has recorded. 

But little more need be told. The defeated ones were 
mostly of the College party and they died hard. Two days 
after said acts of the Assembly, some of them surmounted 
the perils of the roads and arrived in Bennington. Soon 
as they learned what had been done, without sensing that 
their end had already come, in a final gasp of greed of 
power, they sent out word to the excluded towns to meet 
in Dresden, in March, to "devise measures for a settlement 
of animosities, and to form a union with New Hampshire." 
•A meeting was held and readmission on certain terms, dic- 
tated by the college men, was asked of New Hampshire, 
but New Hampshire would take them only without con- 

In May Hartford, Norwich, Thetford, Bradford and 
Newbury, then and now in Vermont, asked for admission to 
New Hampshire, and her Assembly was willing to admit 
them, and all others so desiring, if New York would settle 
her line at the mountains. But as New York did not 
nothing came of it, and in due time the east boundary of 


Vermont was set at the west bank of the river, thus 
putting the Connecticut, in its course between the two 
states, wholly in New Hampshire. 

When the east side towns had again given their 
allegiance to New Hampshire, the sun of the Dresden 
coterie had fully set, and its members returned to their 
legitimate ways, to their books, and played no more at 
politics or state making, probably fully satisfied by their 
experiences that the cobbler best stick to his last and each 
one to his own profession. 

As educated men and educators of other men, they 
were of the best, and in all the arts of learning able to 
stand and cope with the best, even to this day. But in a 
political contest with the untaught but astute yeomen of 
the New Hampshire grants, they were almost surely 
doomed to the failure they at last met. 

Since then, Vermont's political history has been 
another story, which I shall not attempt to tell, but a story 
so like the other in patriotism, heroism, love of home» 
country and honorable citizenship, that every Vermonter 
who sprang from a Green Mountain Boy, every Vermonter 
who only lives on its soil, and every American, wherever 
born, may well feel in it a just and satisfactory pride. 

Cfjanksfttbtng on tfje ifarm 

By Lou D. Stevens 

Do you remember how, just about a year ago, 

We took a trip to Grandpa's on the farm? 
He met us at the station, a twinkle in his eye, 

And in his face a look of mock alarm. 
'Thought you'd leave the boy behind," he said in solemn tone, 

"We've everything that girls would like to eat 
But when it comes to boys — " and he slyly winked his eye, 

As I clambered up beside him on the seat. 


There were apple pies and mince pies, pumpkin pies and tarts; 

There were candies and nuts, and cider sweet; 
The turkey was a dandy, and on the table piled 
Was everything a boy could want to eat. 

We could only stay a day — how I wished it might be more, 

For Thanksgiving at the farm is such a treat; 
. You can scamper through the attic — you can rummage in the barn — 

And there's always such a lot of hens and geese. 
Rover comes and frisks about you; cows and horses hang their heads; 

Pigs are squealing somewhere down below the barn, 
And I stand and hark and wonder how they ever go to bed, 

There's so many things at Grandpa's on the farm. 

There are apple pies and mince pies, pumpkin pies and tarts; 

There are candies, and nuts, and cider sweet; 
The turkey is a dandy, and on the table piled 

Is everything a boy would want to eat. 

And when the day at last is done my father grins and says, 
"I tell you dad, out here's the place to grow; 
The air is sweet and wholesome and you get a chance to breathe — 

Guess the Lord God planned this country life, you know." 
And Grandpa smiles and shakes his head, and Grandma wipes her eye, 

As she softly lays her hand upon my brow, 
And I scrooge a little closer and whisper kind o' low, 
"I just hate to go away and leave you now!" 

There were apple pies and mince pies, pumpkin pies and tarts; 

There were candies, and nuts, and cider sweet; 
The turkey was a dandy, and on the table piled 

Was everything a boy could want to eat. 

«.3sl is 

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3 f-rf : 


^cotcMnsfi) Settlement at Uon= 

Prize Essay Written for the New Hampshire Branch 
of the Colonial Dames 

By Ruth Wells 

Ireland was colonized by several races more than two thousand years 
before the Christian era. These early colonists were Scythians or of 
Scythian origin, and never rose very high in the scale of civilization. 
They had no government, were divided into tribes, and easily conquered 
by those who were destined to become permanent settlers. These last 
were the same people who had swept over southern Europe like a whirl- 
wind, overcoming the rude inhabitants of Galacia and Luistania a long 
time before the legions of Rome invaded those countries. 

These incomers reached Ireland in the year of the world 3,500, and 
immediately showed indications of their enlightenment. They 

belonged to the Gaelic, Milesian or Scotic people, and under them the 
country was developed into a nation. They set up stable government, 
bringing with them customs and laws that had made Assyria, Egypt, 
Babylon and other nations of the East prosperous and powerful. The 
nation they established continued with varying prestige until Henry II. of 
England, in 11 86, subjugated, by treachery and otherwise, the country. 

For a long period these Milesian rulers of Ireland were divided among 
themselves, different lords holding rule over their petty sovereignties, 
belonging to the original stock but unable to unite. Time heals social 
wounds and binds together the shattered parts of disturbing factions. So 
eventually the rival factions became friendly and one stronger than the 
others succeeded in welding the lines into one royal house. Descendants 
of this royal parentage gave to Scotland the flower of its chivalrous fight 
for its own. For nearly seven hundred years they ruled Scotland, giving 
to that country its famous kings, Kenneth, Alexander and Malcolm. 

The great British historian, Macauley, defining the difference between 
the Scotch and Irish characters, says: 

"On the same soil dwelt two populations, locally intermixed, morally 

and politically sundered. The difference of religion was by no means the 

only difference, and was not, perhaps, the chief difference, which existed 

between them. They sprang frem different stock. They spoke differen 

anguages. They had different national characters, as strongly opposed as 

1 253 


any two national characters in Europe. They were in widely different 
stages of civilization. There could, therefore, be little sympathy between 
them, and centuries of calamities and wrongs had generated a strong 
antipathy. . . . The appellation of Irish was then given exclusively to 
the Celts (descendants of the original peasantry) and to these families, 
which, though not of Celtic origin, had, in the course of ages, degenerated 
into Celtic manners. These people, probably somewhat under a million 
in number, had, with few exceptions, adhered to the Church of Rome 
Among them resided about two hundred thousand colonists, proud of 
their Saxon blood and of their Protestant faith." — Editor. 

'VVf^E ^^ New Hampshire are sometimes inclined 
lUL^/ t0 ^ re °* tne f rec l uent praise of Massachusetts' 
early settlers, the Pilgrims and Puritans, and to 
wish that we could produce some event in our early history 
worthy to be compared with the coming of the Mayflower. 
Strangely enough, we forget that a band of men did come 
to our state with as high courage and as firm religious con- 
victions as the Pilgrims. I refer to the Scotch-Irish who, 
in 1719, settled Londonderry, New Hampshire. 

To gain a clear idea of the character and purpose of 
this people, it will be necessary briefly to review their his- 
tory in the mother country. In the reign of James I. of 
England, the Irish province of Ulster was conquered and 
opened to settlement. The Scotch especially availed 
themselves of this privilege and flocked in large numbers 
to Ulster. These settlers, and some that came a little 
later, were the ancestors of the so-called Scotch-Irish of 
New Hampshire. Their life in Ireland was not entirely 
pleasant. The wild and uncivilized Irish despised them as 
aliens and Protestants. Nevertheless, the Scotch-Irish 
throve, improved the land by cultivation, and were them- 
selves improved and trained by their constant feuds with 
the Irish. This was just the kind of discipline to fit them 
to cope with the difficulties of the new world. 

In 1688 and 1689, many of these Scotch took part in 
the famous siege of Derry, bravely holding it against 
James II., and thereby rendering to Protestantism valuable 
service. Although their loyalty was rewarded by the Eng- 


lish government, yet their discontent with their Irish home 
increased. Religious interference was the chief ground of 
complaint. They were, indeed, allowed to continue in 
their own Presbyterian form of worship, yet they were 
obliged to give a tenth of their income toward supporting 
the Episcopal clergy. Their marriages were pronounced 
Illegal if not performed by a clergyman of the Established 
Church, and they were not allowed burial in the cemetery 
if a Presbyterian divine officiated. But religious troubles 
were not the only ones. Their education was restricted 
and their industries discouraged by English trade laws. 
The free spirit of the Ulsterman could not endure these 
restraints, and he began to look toward America, that 
refuge of the oppressed. As James MacGregor, one of 
their ministers expressed it, "They wished to escape from 
the communion of idolaters and to worship God according 
to the dictates of conscience and the rules of His inspired 

A Mr. Boyd was sent as deputy to the governor of 
Massachusetts, to see whether he would offer him his pro- 
tection. When a favorable answer was returned, two hun- 
dred and seventeen of the people of Ulster decided to 
embark for America- It is a significant fact that only 
seven of that number could not sign their own names to 
the Address presented by Mr. Boyd to the governor. 

The five ships bearing the colonists reached Boston in 
August of 17 1 8. There a separation took place, some 
of the immigrants going to Worcester, some remaining in 
Boston, the rest; about sixteen families, who had been the 
special charge of their minister, Mr. MacGregor, sailing 
for Casco Bay, Maine, with a view to exploring some avail- 
able territory there. That winter, which they spent in 
Portland, proved a hard one, on account of lack of pro- 
visions and severe cold. Unable in the spring to find 
suitable land, they sailed down the coast and up the Mer- 
rimack River to Haverhill. A desirable tract of land was 
found about fifteen miles north of here, and upon this 


tract they decided to take up their grant of a township 
twelve miles square. As soon as possible, all the families 
and their few household belongings were collected at this 
spot called Nutfield at first. In order to be close together 
for protection, they laid the lots out along West-running 
brook, each lot having a front of thirty rods on the stream 
and extending back for sixty acres. Log huts were then 
built and two stone garrison houses for protection against 
the Indians. This precaution, however, proved unneces- 
sary, as they were never molested by the Indians. It was 
believed that this good fortune was due to the friendship 
that the Canadian governor, Marquis de Vaudreuil, had for 
Mr. MacGregor. They were annoyed, however, by their 
neighbors in Haverhill and elsewhere, who falsely laid 
claim to the land. The Scotch-Irish applied to the New 
Hampshire government for a confirmation of their own 
rights, and received the desired protection. Determined 
to have a perfectly valid claim to their land, they, after 
much difficulty, found the oldest Indian deed of the land 
they occupied and purchased it. The people of London- 
derry can make the proud boast that their town was 
founded on land purchased from the Indians. 

In the first years of the colony, their energies were 
fully occupied in building the houses and cultivating the 
land. Means of subsistence were hard to obtain, for all 
the grain had to be carried from near-by towns on men's 
backs. After a friendly Indian had told them of the good 
salmon fishing in the Amoskeag near them, their anxiety 
about food was lessened. Another source of food was the 
potato, which they were the first to introduce into the 
state. The most valuable innovation was the manufacture 
of linen. Every house in town possessed a loom and, as 
soon as flax could be grown, an important linen manufac- 
turing industry sprang up. The art spread so rapidly that 
soon people all over the state were engaged in it. The 
Londonderry weavers, however, still continued to produce 
the best work. It was this industry that contributed the 
most towards making the town prosperous. 


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Londonderry's growth was remarkably rapid. A saw- 
mill made frame houses possible, and two grist-mills greatly 
simplified the food question. The population was fast 
increased by new comers from Ireland and by settlers from 
New England towns. In 1722, the town was incorporated 
under the name of Londonderry. An interesting point in 
its charter was a provision for two annual fairs to be held 
in May and November of each year. For fifty years or 
more, these fairs were productive of much good. London- 
derry produce and manufactures were exhibited, while 
merchants from Boston and Salem were glad to bring their 
own goods to these famous fairs. When means of com- 
munication became easier, the fairs lost their importance 
and at length became so harmful, by reason of their degen- 
eracy into mere riotous gatherings, that they had to be 

The reason for Londonderry's prosperity is to be 
found in the character of her people. The Scotch-Irish 
had the enduring qualities that make for success. They 
were gifted with good intellects and were keen to appre- 
ciate the value of an education. As restriction in educa- 
tion had been one of their grievances in Ireland, they made 
early provision in their charter for schools. Later, Pinker- 
ton Academy for boys and the Adams School for girls 
were established. In the latter school, Mary Lyon, who 
founded Mount Holyoke College, was a teacher. 

The Scotch-Irish also possessed courage, which is a 
necessary quality for pioneers. Men who leave a fertile 
land and established homes for religion's sake give evidence 
of the highest courage. Generosity was a distinguishing 
feature of their character. Nothing mean or paltry disfigures 
their history. Above all these characteristics, they were 
devout worshipers of God. Religion had sent them to 
America and religion remained for them the chief thing in 
life. A meeting-house was one of the first considerations 
in building the town, and their minister was beloved and 
respected as few men are. Private and public worship was 


strictly observed. Every Sunday there were catechism 
classes, in which were both old and young. It is said that 
from the founding of the town until now, it has never been 
without a settled ministry, 

As the town grew larger, it sent out no less than ten 
contingents, who formed new settlements all over the 
state. Each one of these new towns was distinguished by 
the prosperity and righteous living of the mother town. 
As Dr. Belknap says of the Scotch-Irish, "Being a pecu- 
liarly industrious, frugal, hardy, intelligent, and well-prin- 
cipled people, they proved a valuable acquisition to the 
province into which they had removed, contributing much 
by their arts and their industries, to its welfare." This 
high opinion they have entirely justified. In all the early 
French and Indian wars they were conspicuous. Crown 
Point, Ticonderoga and the Plains of Abraham saw many 
of them. In the Revolution, they were staunch supporters 
of the cause of liberty, sending next to the largest num- 
ber of men of any town in the state. Seventy of them 
were at Bennington with the famous ranger, John Stark, 
himself of Londonderry. The man in the War of 1812 
who, next to Winfield Scott, won the most reputation was 
James Miller, a New Hampshire Scotch-Irishman. It is 
unnecessary to multiply examples of famous men whom 
Londonderry has produced. As Dr. Parker writes, in his 
history of the town, "Descendants of these emigrants have 
been famous as ministers, soldiers, professors, congressmen 
and governors." 

In the first sermon preached at Londonderry, Mr. 
MacGregor used the text, "And a man shall be .... as 
the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." This might 
have been taken as a prophecy of the future of his people. 
There were many men in Colonial days who were like 
"shadows of rocks" in the "weary" wilderness of America. 
Among them, along with the Pilgrims and Puritans, must 
be named the Scotch-Irish of New Hampshire. 

<3Tf)e permit of <®o=2frack ftoab 

By J. Warren Thyng 

Cjfl HAD often met him, while fishing on Meadow brook, 
^j j but he had never spoken, nor do I remember that he 
~ had noticed my presence; but one hot afternoon, 

when I came across him sitting in the shade of the butternut 
trees, down by the haunted schoolhouse, he reached out his 
hand so kindly to my spaniel, when the dog approached him, 
that it seemed but civility on my part to speak to him. At 
the sound of my voice he arose and stood with his fishing- 
rod thrown across his arm; there was a touch of repose in 
his manner foreign to the natives of the remote mountain 
glen in which he lived. He wore a loose coat or jacket 
belted at the waist; and oddly enough, for so warm a 
day, he had a mantle or scarf of some dark stuff about 
his neck; otherwise his clothing was of the sort worn by 
backwoodsmen. I could not but notice, however, that in 
his beardless face he departed from the usual habit of 
hermits. As is customary with trout fishermen, he carried 
a wicker basket at his side. I have described the recluse 
scantily, since memory serves me but poorly. 

During my vacation in Glen Thornton I saw this 
singular person but once again after the day I found him 
sitting in the shade of the butternut trees; he was fishing 
in a dark pool by the broken wheel of the old mill; he 
neither looked up nor spoke, and might have passed from 
my mind but for an incident that happened a few days 
later, when the schoolmaster and Macdonald had returned 
from fishing on Eastman brook. 

"Schoolmaster," said the Highlander, "will painter be 
for putting the hermit in his book?" 

"Hello, Macdonald, so you know the hermit of Go-Back 



"He's from the land of the heather." 
"The hermit is a bonny Scotch lad?" 
"Ay, from the banks of Loch Lomond." 
A spiral of smoke curled up from the Highlander's 
short pipe, as he thoughtfully regarded the schoolmaster, 
and then continued: 

"They would call him Fitz-James, but his real name I 
never knew, and there was a lass he left at Loch Achray. 
She had dark eyes like a Douglas, and she wore the 
Douglas plaid. I have seen her with the dark plaid 
thrown over her head, standing by the loch and looking 
far away to Ben Venue." 

"Your hermit, Fitz-James, may have inherited the 
Saxon's enmity to the race of Douglas." 

"Ay, replied the Highlander, "and they said the lass 
resented it. Fitz-James disappeared, and I never saw him 
again in Scotland; a few years ago I saw him at Lake 
Asquam, and now he is here." 

"And Fitz-James is the hermit of Go-Back Road?" 
"He is, painter," returned Macdonald, as he lighted 
his pipe and walked away into the shadowy perspective of 
the road that leads to the village. Then through the twi- 
light silence came a voice. The Highlander was singing: 

"Oh ye take the high road 
And 1*11 take the low road 
And 111 be in Scotland afore ye; 
But me and my true love 
Will never meet again 
On the bonnie, bonnie banks 
Of Loch Lomond."